The Knife's Edge
by child-dragon
Summary: Restored to his position as Lord Protector, Corvo is once again called to defend Emily, this time from assassination attempts that have come dangerously close to succeeding. From exile, Daud suspects the remnants of his former followers may be involved in some way. And caught between these elements is a spy, playing a deadly balancing act between all her masters.
1. Fall From Grace

I didn't become a spy for the life expectancy. I did it for the excitement, for the intrigue. Because it was exciting and because I was good at it. I enjoyed secrets – both obtaining them and keeping them. I was a cold woman, this I knew, and it gave me an edge. I didn't get attached. I didn't get... sentimental. I could play my roles well enough and it served me well, befriending the powerful and then taking their secrets and sending them to their ruin. I delighted in the power that gave me.

Power has a price, however, and it seemed that the time had come to pay up.

I was on my back, stunned by the fall. I lay in a heap of shattered boards and I tasted blood, a foul taste, like the edge of a knife. My body was not answering me, my limbs heavy and sluggish to my call, and even my mind felt dim. Like I'd been drugged. My vision swam back and forth, in and out, and for a long moment I could only see patches of light and dark, fragments darting here and there like fish in the water. Too long a moment. Ample time for my pursuer to catch up. He moved like a bird and it seemed that each time I blinked he was in a different location – first, high above on the next story, just at the point where the floor had given out. Eaten by rot and neglect, no doubt. I'd chosen my escape poorly. Then, a flit of movement, and he was crouched on a metal girder, then another flit and he was closer. Then, he was by my side, dropping to one knee.

I tried to turn my head to look at him but a wave of nausea battered at me and I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. Taking in the blood that clung to my mouth, seeping from a broken lip and where I'd bitten my cheek in the fall. I coughed and the movement sent spikes of agony through my chest. I'd broken a rib as well, it seemed.

There was a touch at my wrist. Gloved hands, lifting my arm a fraction. I felt a pressure against my fingers and I tried to pull my hand away. The gesture was weak and ultimately futile, but the man relented and let my arm fall lax by my side again. He was surprisingly gentle in how he handled me. This was not what I expected, all things considered. I was a spy. He'd gone through the documents in my safe, he knew what I was doing. That the fleet of three ships I owned was a front, bought by money from overseas, and that all my gallivanting in the courtly circles was far more than just currying favor with potential business interests. And when I'd realized that someone had been in my room – when I realized I was undone – and fled -

As fleet of foot as I was, as agile as I could be, he was better. And it seemed no matter how I ran, he was just there with me. I felt he was merely keeping pace, that he could stop me at any time, and I realized he was wearing me out. Like walking a deer to death. So I'd taken a risk, tried to lose him in a building I would never have normally touched, and here we were now. Myself, broken in the rubble of my fall; him, at my side. Considering if I should live or die. Bodies were easy enough to dispose of in Dunwall. There were still rat swarms left from the plague, if one knew where to look.

I felt his hand press against my abdomen and I grunted, but the pain was negligible. He turned my head to side and I felt his fingers in my hair, drawing it away from the scalp. That did hurt and I moaned softly and he let go while I fought off another wave of sickness. My body felt too hot, as if a fire had been lit inside me. I was on the verge of losing consciousness.

"You'll live for now," the man finally said. I recognized his voice and something inside me went very cold and very still. "Didn't break your spine, don't seem to be bleeding inside. The blow to the head is a concern, but nothing to do about that one but wait and see."

"Lord Protector," I whispered. "I'm pleased you seem to have my well-being in mind."

A pause. It seemed he was not one for my humor. It was all I had left to me at the moment.

"I have questions," he continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "You can answer them now, or answer them later at Coldridge."

I understood the threat well enough. I tried to move my weakened body and there was a shift as he moved back, giving me room to sit up. It took some effort and he made no move to help me. Apparently the extent of his help was in ensuring I wasn't going to die on him anytime soon. Not until he'd gotten his answers, either with my cooperation, or through the coercion of whoever they gave me to at Coldridge. I'd considered such a fate before. It haunted anyone in my profession, in the dark hours of the night when we couldn't sleep and we never talked about it, not to each other, not to ourselves. We acted like that day would never come. Yet, here it was, and I found that the taste of it was like ash in my mouth and ice in my stomach. I was trembling and it wasn't just from the fall. I drew off my stained gloves to mask my shaking hands, though I doubted it would fool my captor. There were many stories about Corvo. I believed most of them.

"Why not just kill me?" I murmured. "Why chase me down like this, and risk losing your quarry entirely? You have plenty of information from what you found in my safe alone."

It was difficult to see his face in the pale moonlight. The windows had long since been broken but his back was to them, clouding his features in shadow. I could see little under the mantle of black hair that framed his face. I did think, however, that he smiled. A tight gesture with little humor and no warmth in it.

"You wouldn't have been able to shake me," he replied, "even if you'd not had this... misfortune."

He gestured at the shattered debris around us. I shivered. The certainty in his voice was unnerving. It wasn't a boast. It was a statement of fact. He knew his capabilities and he knew that mine were no match. I had to agree with his assessment, given our current situation.

"So what do you want to know?" I asked, turning my face up to regard him. Let him see whatever was there. Fear? Resolve? I wasn't even certain what my eyes would betray. It seemed my composure had finally been stripped away and I couldn't be more exposed here before him if I were naked. It was unsettling. Terrifying. This was how spies die, I thought. Bereft of secrets in the end.

"Your employer."

I laughed under my breath and turned my head away.

"Please. There are stories about you, Corvo. You don't need me to tell you this."

"Yes, I know who bought you that fleet. The paths of money have already been traced, we've already watched where your ships made dock. I meant your other employer."

Something inside me went tight. The muscles in my shoulders froze up and I felt them ache in response, sorely used this night and abused by the fall. It was an effort to force them to relax once more and I let out an unsteady breath. Careless.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," I replied. "It's dangerous for a spy to have two masters."

"But you do."

"No." I kept my gaze turned away from him, as if this would shield me. "No, I don't."

He shifted his stance, putting his weight forwards on one foot and his right hand snapped up, gripping the back of my hair. I cried out even as he forced my gaze up, compelling me to meet his eyes. The moonlight fell upon his face now and I saw the shadows in his cheek, the lines at the corner of his lips. I did not see anger there, nor hate. That surprised me. Was I not an enemy of his empire, of his empress, who he defended with a ferocity unmatched by any in the realm? Who he loved, some said, like a daughter? I saw resolve there, a cold certainty of what he would do – what must be done – and little else. Why didn't he hate me?

"I would have the other name, Karissa," he said evenly. "Give it to me here and this matter may remain between us. Otherwise, I will find it by other means. And you will give it up before the end."

"Speaking from personal experience?" I whispered. A low blow. I said it on instinct and regretted it. Some old darkness flashed across his face and his grip on the back of my hair tightened briefly. I closed my eyes as the pressure against the wound battered me with a wave of renewed agony. It took a moment before I could breathe again.

"Yes," he said, calmly, once I'd recovered. "I outlasted them. Perhaps you will too, but somehow, I doubt it."

"They say you dislike killing."

"You're alive, aren't you?" And now he finally sounded amused. A dark humor, perhaps. It was reassuring. I understood it. "I've condemned people to terrible fates though. You're no different than they."

He released me with a shove. I fell to the side and coughed as my chest flared with pain. Definitely a broken rib. I groaned as he stood and paced around my prone form, his arms crossed over his chest, his long jacket curling around his legs. These were not idle threats he was making. I'd manipulated enough people to know when they were bluffing. Corvo meant what he said.

I thought of my employers. The one master, not quite an enemy of his empress, but not quite an ally either. Curious. Intensely curious. With Dunwall recovering from the plague there were... opportunities here. The question of whether they should be negotiated or seized was one I was here to help answer. And the other employer? My other master? I shivered in the cold night air. Despite the mercy he'd shown me, I was afraid of him. Only a fool wouldn't be.

Yet... I was curious as to what the name would do. There was a history here; I'd been able to guess that much on my own.

"Daud," I whispered. "It's Daud. Calling in a favor-"

I didn't get any further than that. Corvo moved quick and I found myself seized by the front of my vest, bodily lifted from the ground. I was a small woman and for someone of Corvo's size and strength, this was easy enough to do. I struggled against him, my hands clawing at his wrist, but he spun me around and slammed me against the nearest beam, a metal pillar supporting the floor above us. I cried out, a strangled noise, and sucked in air, desperate to breathe despite the arm he had pressed against my neck. The other hand remained on my vest, holding me up so that my feet could not touch the ground. My vision was dark around the edges and my chest was on fire.

"Why?" he demanded, his voice finally bleeding emotion. Anger. Not for me, though I was the target of it at this moment. "Is he behind the attempts on Emily's life?"

I suppose something of surprise registered on my face. I could no longer think coherently, but that was enough of a shock to register in my fading mind. I'd heard of no such thing.

And I considered myself a spy. Poorly done, this.

"We're going to talk more about this," Corvo said, his voice tight. "You and I."

He released me. I collapsed to the ground and it seemed this was the last abuse my body could handle, for I lost all strength to my limbs and the darkness quickly rushed in around me. The last thing I saw was Corvo reaching down a hand for my prone form.

There was a rune there, etched on the back of his palm. I could see it, even through the leather of his glove.

Then I lost consciousness.

* * *

_Author's Note: I promised myself no new projects and yet here I am. Oi. Anyway. Even with a low chaos play-through, Corvo does some pretty dark stuff. I want to try and capture that ruthlessness._

_Also, you should check out my book on amazon. It's Mortal Gods by Bonnie Quinn._


	2. Coldridge

I am not certain if I dreamed, or if it were something else entirely. The world drifted in and out around me, like the ebb of the ocean, and I saw things that felt like visions of the future. Possible futures. Dozens of them, each indistinct and yielding no clues as to how it would come to be. I saw my ships burn at dock; I saw them sailing away, Dunwall in the distance behind them. I saw Emily dead in Corvo's arms, I saw Corvo dying at her feet while she wept. I saw myself dying, in a myriad of ways. By Corvo's hand. By Daud's. By another, whose face I could not see. These were my fears, I thought, given form by the darkness that had pulled my mind under its tide. And I dreamed, there at the end, in the final moments before I woke, of a man. He stood over me and I hadn't the strength to look up at him, much less stand.

"You keep," he said, "interesting company."

There was a twist to his voice. Amusement? Anticipation? I couldn't tell.

I woke in a prison cell. Corvo's threat of Coldridge was not an idle one. I was kneeling, the shackles about my hands and neck keeping me there. My body ached from the position and I struggled upright as best I could, trying to relieve the pressure on my neck and wrists. The weight of the metal holding me pinned was almost more than I could stand. I knew, in the back of my mind, that they'd done this not because I was a threat, but because it would leave me weak when they finally came to question me. Knowing this did not help in any way. My mouth was dry, I was desperately thirsty, and chest throbbed with pain with every beat of my heart. My head swam, but the dizziness seemed to be diminished. The blow to the head wasn't going to be fatal, then. I wasn't certain if I should be relieved at that, considering my circumstances. They'd taken my personal belongings, which wasn't much, granted. A pocketwatch, a knife I kept in my boot, and my vest was unbuttoned. That unsettled me. The thought of men touching me while I was unconscious... I could only hope that Corvo had the decency to ensure nothing had happened to me while I was searched. The only injuries I could feel were from the fall, thankfully. I was shaking with relief from that.

It felt like a long time before I saw anyone. There was a guard that came past, on patrol, and he glanced briefly into my cell to take note that I was now awake. Then he continued on without a word. Part of me was glad he hadn't stopped. I wasn't ready to deal with the threats. The taunts. The words inflicted upon the helpless. Not yet. I saw the patrol twice more before anyone spoke to me. This would be how I kept time now, I realized. It was the only marker inside of the prison. There didn't seem to be anyone else on the row, all the other cells were empty. There was nothing remarkable to look at, just rows of barred cages like my own, and the oppressive silence all around me. I could only kneel in the back of the cell and wait and be afraid for whatever was to come next. In time, my muscles started to shake from the weight of the shackles, and I was forced to fall limp between them. The pressure of the metal against my neck felt like it was cutting off my ability to breathe, and as often as I could find the strength to I tried to relieve that. It seemed the only thing I could think of now was the steady burn in my shoulders and back, the ache in my arms and thighs. There was no way to bear this without putting stress on some set of muscles.

I was very afraid. More than I thought I'd be. I cried some, and then I waited and waited.

Corvo came alone. He stood before my cell for a moment, studying me, and I regarded him in turn. I'd seen him here and there, for I'd worked my way through up through society to the point where I could sometimes appear at court functions, usually as a guest of someone. I'd taken a couple of them as lovers, just to speed the process up. Corvo had always been a distant figure, however, and I'd never spoken to him at these events. I had no reason to. He was nothing but a threat to me and my goal in being in Dunwall. I'd always thought he looked like a hard man. My assessment was accurate. His features were lean, his eyes cold. His movements were conservative, no gesture more than what was necessary. There was a grace in them I envied.

"Tell me about Daud," he said.

"He's an assassin," I replied, my voice flat. It hurt to speak. "I'm a bit undecided on how I want to die right now, but I'm not terribly keen on Daud being the one to do it."

Corvo reached inside his jacket and removed a folded slip of paper. He held this up a moment, then unfolded it so I could see the writing and the seal. I wasn't close enough to read the words, but I could easily imagine what it was he held.

"I've already signed it," he said. "I only need to hand it off and they'll have everything they need to see you interrogated and then executed."

I thought, then, that a blade across the throat would be a lot quicker than what Corvo held there.

"Not much to tell," I said, reluctantly. I considered. Somehow, I doubted I'd be able to lie to Corvo. I hadn't had much success with doing so to Daud. "When I was sent here, he gave me instructions to find out what had become of certain people. That's all there is to it."

"There's a lot more to it then that," Corvo replied sharply. "What do you know of the people he's sent you to find?"

"Nothing. It's not like Daud trusted me with his secrets. I've only seen him twice now. The first was when he hid me for four days when I'd sold someone's secrets and my buyer betrayed me to them in turn. My target turned out what seemed like his own personal army to find me. I didn't even know he was Daud was, not until-"

I exhaled and looked away.

"Anyway," I continued, "after things quieted down I went on my way and then he shows up on the eve of my departure for Dunwall with a list of names. That's it."

"What are the names?"

"You think they're connected with whoever tried to kill the empress?" I asked in return. Perhaps I could deter him from this line of questioning. "You know, Daud mentioned you."

"Did he." Not a question. He regarded me with his arms crossed. Not even remotely interested in what I had to say. Distraction was a stalling tactic at best.

"He told me to stay well away."

"The names, Karissa."

"He's going to kill me for this," I whispered.

Corvo unfolded his arms, leaned forwards. He put one hand on the bars and settled his weight against them, settling that dark gaze firmly on me. My eyes flickered to the back of his hand. Gloves. I could not see the rune. Had I been imagining it as my mind faded away into darkness?

"He might," Corvo said evenly, dragging my reluctant attention back to his face. "Or, he may understand just how few options you had and forgive this betrayal. It's hard to say. But what is certain is what _I_ will do to you. I'm in no mood to play games."

"Not with Empress Emily's life at stake," I whispered. "Of course."

And I gave him the names. It was... not my proudest moment. But given my options, I chose the one that would keep me alive for just a little bit longer. It might give me time to find a way to save myself. Or, failing that, it'd at least give me a painless death. I wouldn't have to even worry about Daud in that scenario. I was a very practical person.

Corvo thought for a moment, trying to see if the names dredged up anything familiar. After a moment he sighed and I saw his shoulders relax. When he looked at me again, the earlier hostility was gone. I'd given him what we wanted. I felt a glimmer of hope in my chest.

"Do they – mean anything to you?" I asked cautiously.

"No. Which gives me an idea of what they are. Have you located any of these people?"

"Just one. He was dead. They said he was a murderer for hire and someone else offed him. I thought then – I think – that Daud is having me find out what's happened to his associates here in Dunwall."

Something tightened in Corvo's face, at the corner of his lips.

"Not associates," he replied. "I think he's having you find what's become of his former followers. He had quite a collection. No other instructions?"

"No," I said softly.

Corvo sighed heavily and he reached into the pocket of his greatcoat. He pulled out a key and I felt a tremor of fear at that. But, he hadn't called for guards. He wasn't one to kill people himself and he hadn't given anyone the order to have me executed. Not yet. I watched uneasily as he unlocked the cell and swung the door open. He stepped inside, coming up to stand next to the lever that would release me from the shackles. I eyed Corvo for a moment and tilted my head at him, raising my eyebrows in mock consternation.

"I'm fairly certain the government that employs you doesn't want Emily dead, at least, not yet," he said, "and I think Daud is having you seek out his former assassins for a reason. I want you to keep doing this, except now, you report to me. If one of them is behind the attempts on Emily, I want to know."

"And my other employer?" I asked quietly.

"I'll control what they learn."

I hissed and dropped my gaze. I was not exactly negotiating from a position of power here, but at least I had something to bargain with. Corvo wanted me to help him with Emily. That was fine. Now it was time to see what else I could get from him. How much he wanted my help.

"I can't agree to that," I said evenly. I felt in control again, if not of the situation, than at least myself. "A spy that cannot be trusted to provide accurate information is a spy that winds up unemployable at best, disposed of at worst."

"Then what do you propose?" Corvo spread his hands to either side. "I simply cannot allow you to spy on my city."

"Your city? And here I thought you were Serkonos."

A flicker of anger passed across his face. The barb was well-aimed.

"After everything I've done-" he said, his voice low.

"My apologies," I sighed, deliberately cutting him off. "Your city. How about this? I send a missive to my employer informing them I've been compromised and will be remaining in Dunwall under the employ – and commuted execution order – of the Lord Protector. The shipping company can be transferred to an agent of their choice at the earliest opportunity... preferably not another spy, as it will be watched. I'll agree to remain a neutral party in affairs between the empire and them."

"And they'll believe all this?" He sounded skeptical. I didn't blame him.

"It's the truth," I retorted. "I've had nearly three dozen employers in my career, Lord Protector. That is a ridiculous amount for a spy, especially since some of them were in conflict with each other. I've avoided being killed simply because I do not betray and I keep my confidence. A secret learned of one employer does not get revealed the second someone else buys my loyalty. I don't learn too much and I don't take a new contract without first voiding the current one. That, and a keen sense of knowing when to vanish, has let me live this long."

"Yet you betrayed Daud."

I flinched.

"I've never been captured before like this," I whispered. "I've always had a way out. Something to bargain with. This time – I have nothing on you. Daud told me to stay away and so I did. Perhaps that was a mistake."

A mistake I would have to remedy. This agreement was only temporary. After I did as Corvo requested, after Emily was safe, there was no telling what he'd do with me then. I needed to find a way out of the city for when that time came, or something to hold over Corvo that would force him to release me. I hadn't an idea of what that could be yet, however. There were rumors about him and Jessamine, of course, but that was hardly a secret he was making an effort to conceal. Emily's parentage? Again, irrelevant. Perhaps he really was her father. It mattered little. The empress perceived him as a father and the question of actual parenthood wouldn't influence matters either way in that situation. It was court gossip, little else. I needed something that could ruin him – or his beloved Emily.

I couldn't even being to guess what that would be, however.

"Fine," Corvo finally said. "I agree to that. I'll arrange for a new cover once you find out how to handle your current shipping company. Until then, keep operating it as if nothing has changed. I'll escort you out of Coldridge. There are no records of your intake here. It's as if you were never here."

That, in of itself, was a chilling thought. That was how governments made people vanish, as if they never even existed. I think that was what made the enormity of my situation sink in, made me realize just how close I had come to destruction. I'd seen this happen before. I'd contributed to it. And yet, and now, having myself be the victim of the callous indiffernece that power and the keeping of power bred – I felt sick.

He released me from the shackles. I collapsed to my hands and knees, my body giving out with the relief of being released. It took a moment before I could actually stand again, and even then it took Corvo's hand on my arm, pulling me up, to do it. I stepped away from him as soon as I was able to. My legs were shaking and I knew it would be an effort just to get myself home again.

"Please tell me you'll have a carriage arranged to get me home," I said in a low voice.

"I will. You've been here for about a day. Best prepare your excuses."

That wouldn't be hard. My rooms were adjacent to the warehouse, but it was not uncommon for me to be gone for days at a time. I trailed in Corvo's wake, allowing him to lead me out of Coldridge. I was too exhausted to think of anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

But I was alive. And now, I had to turn my attention to staying that way. Hunting assassins, trained by Daud himself, one of which may be targeting the empress. It seemed I would be courting death as my dance partner in this game.


	3. Following Clues

It seemed my dreams intended to persist with a theme. I lay on my stomach at a ledge, where the earth fell away to the void beyond. I could see fragments of Dunwall floating beneath me, rotating on narrow islands of stone, the buildings blank and the lights glowing blue in the strange luminescence of this realm. It felt very lonely here. I recognized the buildings. They were clean, the walls free of soot and grease, and there were plants in the narrow patches of dirt here and there. There was no trash in the street. I knew this wasn't the true Dunwall. It was how I remembered it, from a time so long ago I thought it was forgotten entirely. My memories, painting a false image here in the void of my dreams. Dunwall was never like this. Not even then.

"I find it interesting," a voice said from behind me, "how for someone who has never betrayed her employers, you find it so easy to betray everyone else."

I started to rise, to turn and confront this man. I had heard his voice before but I could not place it. The ground shifted beneath me and before I could even make it out of a crouch, I realized that I was falling. The stones were breaking apart underneath me and I fell backwards, towards the city of Dunwall beneath me. I couldn't even scream and I saw a brief glimpse of the man, only a second before his image fell away.

I'd seen him before.

Then I woke.

It was difficult to get myself ready for the day. My composure was rattled and even my daily routine could not shake it. I'd gone straight to sleep when I was left at the my warehouse and it seemed I'd slept well into the morning. I glanced out the window. All my ships were out right now so I had little to do save secure my next contracts for when they returned. There was due to be a pickup of cargo in another few days, the owner had not room in his own warehouse and was paying me to store it until he found space. Otherwise, I had few obligations. Were this a real business I would be seeking ways to expand it right now, but I didn't want to get in over my head on obligations. This was a front, nothing more.

I bathed, glad to be rid of the stink of Coldridge and the stale sweat that clung to my body. I considered my options while I did, until the heat began to fade from the water. The next name on my list – Jared Barrel - had led me to a Terrence Fisk. I didn't know the connection, however. All I had was his name. I needed information on him before I could proceed, and prior to my capture by Corvo, I had planned to break into his office, down on the fringe of the Legal District. I saw no reason to not proceed with this plan. Terrence did not warrant a mansion, not yet, but rumor had that he was growing steadily wealthier. Already, he'd bought out the house adjacent and converted one to his private living quarters and the other his office. I would start with the office first, as it was the newer and likely to be more accessible. Then, once I'd learned something on him, I would approach him in person and learn what I could.

This was how I worked.

I waited until dusk and dressed like a working girl. It would not be out of place on the edges of that district. Burglary was different since the plague and I could not say if it had changed for the better or not. It was just different. The reduced population meant less people on the streets to witness the crime, but it also meant that a lone person would be easier to remember. I hoped that, if caught, Corvo would cover it up for me. I did not intend to test that, however.

The office was closed, as Terrence only held business every other day. He was an investor. I approached from the street, walking past once to ensure it was indeed empty, and then I doubled back along the back alleyway. The windows were all locked tight but I eyed the second floor a moment. The office and residential building were adjacent to each other, but there was a narrow gap between the office and the building next to it, perhaps only three feet wide. If I could get to the roof, I could drop onto the second story balcony and then jimmy the lock from there. And with how narrow the gap was, I could use the second building to brace myself and make the climb, even without any convenient hand-holds on the brick.

Let's see Corvo do this. I doubted he'd even fit, given the breadth of his shoulders.

It was a difficult climb, regardless of my advantages. I moved as quick as I dared, hoping to get up and onto the roof before anyone passed by on the street. My knees scraped against the brick and I kept the backs of my arms and shoulders pressed tight against the opposite wall. It was kind of like walking. Sideways. My ribs ached with each movement and by the time I reached the top, enough that I could grab the lip and pull myself up onto the shingles, I was panting out-loud with pain. I was in a poor condition to be doing this, but I had little choice. If Emily's life was in jeopardy, than I had to move fast. I wasn't exactly an ally of the Empire, but nor did I want to see the young Empress assassinated. I suspected if that happened, Corvo just might forget his mercy.

For a brief moment, I remembered my dream. I hadn't betrayed Daud. I hadn't betrayed Dunwall. I was still here, doing as Daud wished, working with Corvo to protect Emily. That wasn't betrayal – was it?

I stole across the roof, keeping low. I eyed the street a moment to confirm it was clear, then I slipped over onto the balcony. I had to be quick with the lockpicks. The lock looked old, which meant it would be easier to open, and I pulled out my tools from a pocket on the inside of my vest. I inserted the torsion wrench and leaned over close, listening as the tools scraped along the inside of the lock. It took time to pick a lock. Thankfully, with how empty the streets of Dunwall were, I had plenty of that. Eventually I felt the tumbler rotate and I pulled the picks free and opened the door.

I almost triggered the tripwire. It was only the setting sun that stopped me, the last rays of sunlight catching on the wire and shining for just a moment. I hissed and stopped myself just in time. I studied the door a moment more. There was just the one wire, about ankle-height. I saw no other traps. I stepped over and looked about the interior. Curious, that Terrence would bother to trap the second floor entrance. Was he paranoid? Or did he have a reason to be afraid?

I checked his desk, first committing to memory the layout. He kept a clean desk and the drawers that were not locked were similarly devoid of anything of interest. There were some correspondence, but nothing about a Jared. I considered the locked drawer. He might notice the damage my lockpicks would leave behind, but I hadn't any luck yet. I sighed and drew out the tools. I had to take the risk. If nothing else, he wouldn't know it was I that went through his things. I had the drawer open in short order, as the room grew dark around me and night took hold. Inside I found a stack of documents and I pulled this out and flipped through. His current investments. It seemed he was looking mostly at enterprises inside of Dunwall. There was one I took particular note of – an acquisition, after the demise of the previous owner. Convenient. Was this his connection to Jared Barrel? Had he hired one of Daud's former students? I started to put the papers back, then paused. There was something more at the bottom. A knife. A rough blade, not meant to be carried openly as decoration. Keeping weapons at hand was not unusual in itself, but most people I knew preferred a pistol. Curious. I put the papers back and let myself out onto the balcony, careful to avoid the tripwire. Then, I checked the street, hoisted myself over the edge of the balcony and lowered myself as far as I could go before letting go and falling to the street below. It was a rough fall and I walked away with one hand pressed tight to my injured ribs. I'd have to avoid doing that again for a while.

I'd need to speak with Terrence in person. I needed access to his house. Thankfully, I had a bit of an edge in how to accomplish that.

* * *

I met with Corvo as agreed. He'd given me a time, an hour before dawn, and I only had to be awake. He'd come to me. I think this was partly a threat. I sat at the desk in my office and waited. I didn't hear him approach, not until the knob of the door turned and he let himself in. I was impressed. I'd left the warehouse locked up, just to be difficult. Hopefully he wasn't so crass as to break any windows.

"Anything to report?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. "But first, I want to know how the attempt on Emily's life went. What weapons were used. When and where. That sort of thing."

His expression went tight and he slowly edged around the chair before my desk and seated himself. He gave a cursory glance around, his eyes falling on things here and there with the familiarity of someone that had been here before. I frowned at this. I did not like to be reminded that he'd gone through my things. I tried not to keep anything incriminating written down, but there were pieces to the puzzle here, if someone was clever enough to figure it out. Either Corvo was that clever, or he had someone else in Emily's employ that was. It mattered little. He knew. Here we were.

"I need to know what I'm looking for," I prompted. "I'm a spy, not a mind-reader."

"I would hope not," he replied. "The overseers may take concern if you were."

I stiffened in my chair. Corvo caught this gesture, his dark eyes flickering over to me for a moment before sliding away.

"Very well," he sighed. "The assassin attacked her while we were in the garden at Dunwall Tower. I wasn't able to see his face. He wore a mask, just a featureless white one fit to his face."

"So not the Masked Miscreant," I murmured. "Just someone wanting to borrow his infamy."

Corvo smiled tightly.

"Definitely not him. Anyway, he came at Emily with a knife and when I got between the two, he thought better and drew a gun. I got it out of his hand and broke his wrist, then he was... gone."

He hesitated on the words and I saw his gaze drop away from me. There was a reluctance there that wasn't just confusion. Corvo was good at hiding his emotions, but he slipped here and there. He was Emily's bodyguard, not a spy like me. I had a bit more training in these matters.

"Gone how?" I pressed.

"Got out of my grasp and got over the wall. When I caught up, he was gone." The man shrugged. "Quite a bit of talent there, enough to make me nervous."

And so much he wasn't telling me. I leaned back in the chair, briefly contemplating if I should point out the inconsistencies to him or not. Just a hint. Just to make him nervous.

"Especially if he had a broken wrist," I said dryly. "Quite a talent, indeed."

There was silence in the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall behind me. The walls of the garden of Dunwall were high. No one could climb it with a broken wrist. No one could escape Corvo like that. To get out of his grasp and then flee – injured – it was impossible. It had taken all I was while fleeing him and he had simply kept pace like it was nothing. There was something else going on here. I did not think Corvo was one to outright lie to protect his reputation, so it wasn't that he'd simply failed in his duties. It was something else. He was protecting a secret, perhaps one of his, perhaps one of Emily's. If I found it out, then perhaps it would be leverage enough to protect me, once this was over.

"So I'm looking for someone with an incredible talent at climbing," I said coldly, "with a preference for knives and guns."

"An assassin," Corvo said. "Like one of Daud's former followers."

"Please."

I put derision in my voice and I stood, placing my fingertips on the desk.

"Daud doesn't use guns," I said, my voice tight. "They're too loud. So again, we're looking for someone with: a talent for climbing, knives and guns, and a reason to use a mask, be it to hide his identity or for other reasons. Could be because it's someone you know, or could be because there is an obsession here brought on by the Masked Miscreant. But, if you insist, I'll keep following up on Daud's names."

"I do." He stood as well, banishing my momentary height advantage. "What do you have to report, now?"

"I'm looking into an investor named Terrence Fisk. I think he may have a connection to one of Daud's people. I plan to visit him tomorrow evening, late enough that I could get... invited... to stay the night. If you know what I mean."

I grinned. He frowned.

"I do," he said. "And what will that accomplish?"

"Access to his house," I said. "While he sleeps, I take a look around. Simple."

"You've done this before?"

"A lot." I grinned. "I earned my reputation, and I'm not just talking about my career as a spy."

"I see." His tone was indifferent. "I'll find you in the morning and you can tell me what you found."

Not ruffled in the least. I wasn't surprised. If the rumors were true, affairs were no stranger for him. He'd set his sights far higher than I ever dared, even.

"Please," I said, gesturing to the door, "see yourself out. It seems you know your way around my warehouse well enough already."

He needed no further prompting. He left without another word. Once the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed into my chair and let out a frustrated sigh. Working with him was going to be difficult.

* * *

_Author's Note: I usually don't point these things out, but since this is fanfiction, I feel compelled to protect my honor and state that the dream is NOT a continuity error. Karissa both did not see him at all in the first dream and she recognized him in the second. Not a mistake. Trust me. This is gonna get good. The plans I have._


	4. Liaisons

I was easily admitted to see Terrence the next day. I went during the end of business hours, when the shadows were stretching long. Few people wanted to be out after dark these days. Emily had pulled the watch back into check but there was still plenty of corruption to be had, to say nothing of the gangs and destitute that roamed the streets in the wake of the plague. There were weepers, even, in the parts of the city that were hardest hit, where the population was almost decimated. Walls of light had been set up to these areas to quarantine them until Emily was convinced the infection had run its course. Only then would they be opened, the bodies burned, and the area cleaned up and reopened to habitation. It was a harsh cure but bit by bit, the city was being reclaimed. It seemed Emily's kidnapping had made her hard. Strong. She'd been tempered. It was miraculous that anything of mercy remained in her.

Despite my small fleet, I had enough of a presence that I was admitted, despite not having a prior appointment. Terrence did not keep me waiting long. He had one other person in the building, a clerk, that managed the lower floor. He came down personally to see me. I noted that his hands were rough when we shook. Scarred and worn. He'd had a hard early life. This was not terribly surprising, as with the nobility and commoners alike decimated by the plague, there was a lot more social mobility in Dunwall than there had been before. No doubt Terrence was one of those that had taken advantage of this.

"Miss Anatte, it's a pleasure," he said.

I felt his eyes on me. Not in the way I would expect, given my reputation. Often, when I visited men, I saw them regarding me with curbed desire, waiting to see if I would indicate that I was here for more than just business. I was choosy about my lovers. They had to be politically advantageous, with information I wanted to know. They were few. Discreet, but not unknown. And I was careful to ensure that each of them knew there was nothing in this, that it was a matter of desire and nothing more.

I could honestly say I'd yet to fall in love with anyone. It was safer this way, for everyone involved.

But Terrence? He looked at me the way I looked at him. Noting my clothing, my hands. The smoothness of the skin that spoke of a lifetime of easy work and the make of my clothing that said I had money but was not spending it on the best I could afford. Just the best I wanted. In turn, I saw in him the awkward style of someone that didn't quite know all the social graces of the wealthy and had few options he knew were safe to buy and wear. Drab. Uninteresting. I thought that if things went well tonight – if he was enjoyable – I'd have to pass his name along to a tailor or two to do something a bit more... interesting. He was a handsome man, strong features, and even though his jacket concealed it I could still tell that he was heavily muscled. Dark hair and his eyes were cracked with wrinkles at the outside corner. It gave him a hard look. Many people in Dunwall sported it. They'd all seen too much.

I saw the same look in myself, sometimes, but for different reasons.

He led me upstairs to his office. I hesitated enough to give the impression that I'd never been here before, then I made my way to the plush chair before the desk. I sat with my back straight, hands folded primly in my lap. When doing business, I comported myself to perfection. I believed in keeping personal matters out of negotiations, an attribute which my associates appreciated. It kept things clean.

"So I must confess I'm not understanding the reason behind this visit," Terrence said as he seated himself. "You run an import-export business. My dealings are strictly local."

"That's actually why I'm here," I replied. "You need diversity. What would happen to all those local assets should the rat-plague flare up once again?"

"You'd fare little better, seeing as the ports were closed."

His dark eyes sought out my own. I gave him a cordial smile. Relaxed. At ease. I was in control of this situation.

"It was merely an example," I said. "I can provide more, if you like, but I think you already understand my point. You strike me as an intelligent man – and wise to how Dunwall truly works as well. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair. I at least had his full attention now.

"Many of the nobility," I continued, "are ignorant to anything except their own social circles. Look at the Boyle sisters – look at the party they hosted while people starved on the streets. So wrapped up in their own affairs that they don't know the city in its fullness and that makes them... risky. Business is done not only in the luxurious offices of the rich, but also in the streets. At the docks. In the slaughterhouses."

"That is true," he admitted. "Though the Boyle sisters suffered for their avarice."

I grimaced.

"As have others. Arnold Timsh comes to mind as well. It just further illustrates my point – I prefer to deal with people that aren't so drunk on their own importance that they ignore what could befall them."

At the mention of Timsh's name, Terrence looked away. Something passed across his face that I think he'd rather have concealed, and I thought that this was a man that was new to having to hide himself in plain sight. He looked... regretful, I believe. As if he remembered something he'd rather not. I would have to further investigate any connections to the disgraced noble. He was still in Coldridge, I thought, and imagined Corvo could arrange a visit if need be.

"Unfortunately, Miss Anatte," Terrence sighed, "I'm not exactly at a point where I'd like to take a risk of branching out my investments. I know you from the social circles we frequent. I do not know your business. I'd have to take more time, learn your standing, learn your peers, and then I could make an educated decision on whether your little shipping company was worth my time."

"I understand that, and I appreciate your diligence. Business investments, I feel, are not something to be rushed into. I merely wanted an opportunity to meet you in advance, so that you may have my name in mind when the time comes." I paused, turning my gaze away. There. The initial connection was made. Now, it was time to switch to other matters. "I must confess that business was not my only reason for coming here. There are some matters, I believe, that can be rushed into. Should the situation be... agreeable."

At the last word, I raised my eyes. Just my eyes. There was a considering look on his face and although his body remained relaxed, I saw the tightness inside him, boiling under the skin.

"I've heard you have a reputation as a collector, Miss Anatte," he murmured.

Not a refusal. I smiled coyly.

"Please, call me Karissa. I'm done with business now. And yes, I suppose I am."

"Always the wealthy and powerful, I hear."

"I have selective tastes."

"Or expensive ones."

I allowed myself a laugh, low in the back of my throat.

"Well," I murmured, "as mercenary as that sounds, I suppose it is accurate."

I stood. Not an outright refusal, not yet. I only needed a little more of a push to get him to commit. And then, tonight while he slept, I'd see what documents he kept around his manor. He stood as well, moving around the edge of the desk so that we stood just opposite each other. The top of my head reached his nose and I kept my gaze down, conscious of my own breathing. Shallow and fast. His was not yet there. I raised my hands, placed them palm down on his chest. Felt the warmth of his body beneath his vest and I exhaled, a drawn out shudder. His hands moved, up to either side of my face and I felt his fingers trail across my cheeks. Then, they dropped, and there was a tug between my collarbones as he unfastened the first button of my vest.

Done. I allowed myself a smile and remained motionless, my palms pressed against him, until he had finished with my vest and pushed the fabric aside to reveal the white shirt I wore under.

"A bit ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" I murmured, pressing myself against him and cutting the motion short. I ran my fingers down across the back of his neck, using my nails. "I was hoping to take the whole night."

"You would," he murmured.

Then his hands fell on either side of my body, sliding down the length of my ribs to stop on my hips. It was not exactly a caress and for a moment I was taken aback. I felt his hand slide towards the small of my back, and then he teased out the knife I kept hidden in the waistband. It was only as long as my hand and I held my breath as he looked at it a moment, then he half-turned and threw it across the room. It clattered into the corner, far, far out of my reach.

I had my excuses already prepared. It was dangerous for a woman to walk alone in Dunwall now. The fact I kept it concealed was only prudent, given the sort of people I associated with. We didn't carry weapons so openly. All true. The fact I was a spy and found it prudent was only a secondary reason for having it.

I was never given a chance. He turned back to me and snapped a hand up, seizing hold of my hair. He jerked my head back and I cried out in the back of my throat, softly. I wasn't ready to scream for help. Not yet. I doubted his clerk would do anything, even if I did. Terrence leaned in close to me, putting his lips near my ear and I felt his hot breath against my cheek.

"I don't sleep with spies," he whispered, "as a general rule."

And he shifted, kissing me on the lips, long and hard, and I pushed against his chest but his hand in my hair was relentless. He released me when he was done and I took a few steps back, putting a pace between us. I could feel the flush in my cheeks and didn't know if it was from anger or embarrassment. I wiped at my lips with the flat of my hand, trembling and at a loss for words.

"I'll see you out," he said coolly, as if nothing had happened. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

* * *

Corvo was waiting for me two streets down, well out of sight of Terrence's office. He fell into step beside me.

"I thought I was going to meet you in the morning," I said.

"I didn't feel like putting all my trust in your plan," he replied demurely, "so I let myself into the house and took a look around while you were keeping him... occupied. I take it the encounter was... not as you'd hoped?"

That stung. I gave him a side-long glance, letting him see the weight of my disapproval. My wounded pride. Then I sighed and let it go. I wasn't one to get attached. These things meant nothing to me.

"He knew I was a spy," I said, perhaps a touch more accusing than I should have.

"Not my doing," he said in return, and nothing more. It seemed I wasn't going to get anything from him.

"I'll never be able to get his trust now," I muttered. "I do hope whatever you found was enlightening. I think we may have a possible lead in Arnold Timsh. I think he was connected to him somehow."

"Don't bother," Corvo replied. "He's one of Daud's."

"What, Terrence?"

"I found his old gear in his room."

I fell quiet a moment. That was how he'd found the knife on me. And -

"I was alone with him," I said, suddenly stricken and my pace faltered. "He could have – oh. I-"

"You might want to button your vest, by the way."

That snapped me out of my shock. I cursed and started fastening the buttons as we walked. It seemed Corvo wasn't going to say anything more on what he found, which I found frustrating. This was why I'd wanted to look around for myself.

"There are so many details I'm going to omit from this when I report to Daud," I muttered through clenched teeth. "So very many details. Do you think Terrence – or Jared Barrel, as he used to be called I suppose – is the man who attempted to kill Emily?"

"No. There's nothing to indicate he's continued his old trade and he has a lot to lose now if Emily dies. But we can use him to track down his former associates."

"Good. Because when he grabbed me, he didn't show any sign of an injured wrist."

"He grabbed you, did he?" This time, Corvo's gaze slid sideways. He was far too amused by how flustered I was.

"Oh, do shut it," I hissed.

We walked along in silence for a ways. I thought there was a reason Corvo was walking me back to my warehouse. I waited. I was patient, he could tell me on his own time.

"I've looked into your history," he finally said.

"Did you?" My voice was quiet. I wasn't surprised he'd done this, but I didn't have any particular desire to have this conversation, either.

"You were born in Dunwall."

"We left when I was very young."

I barely remembered it now. Just as the idealistic version I saw in my dreams, twisting in open space like a puppet show, arranged specifically for me.

"Yes. Just you and your mother. And then your mother finally married in another part of the isles. That's what they say."

"That's what it is," I sighed. "I'm illegitimate, what of it? You're familiar with the concept."

He didn't take the bait.

"But you're not," he continued and I felt like a hand had just squeezed my heart. "You had a father. He died in a factory accident. The records are just hard to find because the factory owner wanted to hide the incident. So, then, your mother met Laut once she left Dunwall, but they never actually married. Is that true?"

"Yes," I whispered. I tilted my head so that my hair hid my expression. Even as a spy, I did not trust myself. "Laut... he wanted to marry my mother, but she died before he could. He finished raising me anyway. I still have contact with him."

"How did she die?"

He sounded idly curious. It was not meant to hurt me. I wasn't used to this sort of treatment. Were our positions reversed, I would use this to exploit Corvo in any way I could. Manipulate him. I wondered that, even though he had blood on his hands and I didn't – not directly – that he was the better person here. I felt small walking beside him. Insignificant.

"She drowned," I whispered. "That's what they say. But I was there. I saw. Someone murdered her. He pulled her with him, out into the water, and then held her under the water. No one heard me screaming for help. The waves were up and the wind was too loud and no one was nearby. No one believed me. They said there weren't any marks of a struggle on her body. She killed herself, they said. But I saw. I saw him, he wasn't that big of a man, had very short black hair and he wore a gray jacket that closed up the front. It was ragged about the elbows. And his eyes... I only saw a glimpse of them, just a second when he looked up to where I stood on the shore. He looked at me! Even while my mother drowned he looked up at me while I stood there watching."

"His eyes?" Corvo prompted softly. I took a breath.

"Yes. They were black. Like obsidian. All black."

Corvo's step faltered.

"That's impossible," he said, and his voice held a tremor to it.

"I know." I rubbed at my face with the heel of my hand. "It was night out, though, so I think it was a trick of the light or my own failing memory. I was only thirteen."

Corvo said no more on that. It seemed he hadn't found everything, then. Some of my secrets were still my own – and did my family have secrets. I'd learned to keep them at an early age, listening to my mother sing, sitting in my room with the cold knowledge that I couldn't tell this to anyone. After my father died – after my brother - perhaps that was why I'd become a spy. I'd learned my trade inside the walls of my own home.

We stopped when we reached sight of my warehouse. I turned to face Corvo. The building was dark and I knew it would be empty. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"So you know," I said softly to Corvo, "you're welcome in my bed. Any night you please."

"No," he said, turning his head away. I could not see it from here, but I thought he was looking in the direction of the tower. Where the Empress had died in his arms. "But thank you for the offer."

Perfectly courteous. Indifferently so. He turned to go and I watched him, suddenly feeling sorely used. It was my own fault, I supposed. I should have known better than to compete with a ghost.

* * *

_Author's Note: Don't worry Karissa, there's still plenty of canon characters left for you to throw yourself at._

_And just trust me on the Outsider here. I'm not going to be ruining his character at all._


	5. Keeping Secrets

I was woken in the morning by one of my associates paying a call. It wasn't entirely a surprise, I sometimes had visitors, but it was certainly a shift from what I'd been doing the past few days. Like a reminder of a past life. I felt a pang of regret. By now, my missive to my employers was en route and a few weeks from now they'd be reading it and deciding what to do with a spy that was no longer theirs. I hoped to be finished with this affair and be gone by then. As careful as I was with my dealings, vanishing was a prudent maneuver from time to time. It gave people time to think clearly, to realize that perhaps I was more useful an asset alive than dead, that I could possibly be employed again in the future. I'd provided them with enough information to prove my worth.

I kept some watchmen in the warehouse and they patrolled the ground floor and the entrances. They never questioned my coming and goings and I had a policy of firing anyone on the spot that even dared make a crude comment in my direction. They could save those for in private, when I wasn't in earshot. I would not tolerate it. One of these woke me, knocking loudly on the door to my apartments until I finally, reluctantly, rolled out of bed. I greeted him as I was, disheveled from sleep and he didn't even blink. I had good employees.

"Nathaniel Igrit to see you, ma'am," he said cordially.

"This early?" I muttered. It was barely an hour past dawn.

"Yes ma'am. Quite upset."

"Not at me, I hope?"

He shook his head.

"No ma'am. Shall I stall him for you?"

"No, no. Bring him up to my sitting room here and tell him he's to wait until I'm done. I'll take care of it from there."

He turned to do as I bid. I hastily went to the bath and ran it full of hot water. I cracked the door just a hair, enough so that if Nathaniel sat in the right seat he'd be able to see through the bedroom and into the bathroom's mirror. From there, he'd see me, but only a faint outline, distorted by steam. I undressed and slipped into the water. I heard him enter and heard the watchman relay my instructions. I listened to him walk around for a bit, his footsteps heavy and his pace urgent. Clearly distressed. Then the creak of a chair as he sat down. Hopefully it was the right one. I intended to have him distracted and calm when I finally emerged. I didn't take too much time, not wanting to make my ploy obvious, but I was careful to keep myself positioned so that he'd be able to see what I wanted him to. The curves of my chest, of my legs. Then, when I was done, I rose and dried myself, slipping on a robe and tying it at the waist. I joined him in the sitting room like this.

"Forgive me," I murmured, "you came so unexpectedly."

"I don't mind," he replied.

He was sitting in the right chair and he was leaning back with his legs crossed, relaxed. I could see some of the anger the watchman warned me of in his features still – a bit round from an easy life, clean-shaven, with curly dark hair. However, the anger was much diminished and I knew he was watching me openly as I seated myself opposite him. I'd gone to his bed at least four times now. Satisfactory, and quite educational. He was a supplier of munitions and like me, kept his bedroom close to his offices.

"So what brings you here so early?" I said. "I'm afraid my business hours aren't started yet and my other business hours have already ended."

He smiled weakly at this. Not in the mood, but he was humoring me.

"I do miss our... business meetings," he said. "I will have to have you over for dinner sometime. But not now. Not anytime soon, really. I have trouble, Karissa."

I gave him my attention. In reality, I wanted to frown and snarl and throw him out. I had enough to deal with already.

"Go on," I said instead.

"My warehouses have been temporarily seized," he sighed. "My entire enterprise. They're on lockdown, guards posted at the entrances, no one can get in. Not even me. And no one will tell me why, save that the order comes from the Empress. The Lord Protector himself was at one of them and told me off. Polite, mind you, but it's clear he's in no mood to be interfered with. There's a dark look about him. Scared me."

He rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. Being in the weapons business, Nathaniel was not one to be easily scared. I sat up straighter, suddenly very, very interested.

"He said I'd have them back in a couple days," Nathaniel continued. "I think I can deal with that, so long as it really is a couple days. But Karissa, there's documents I need out of there. I've got some payments to make and everything I need is stored upstairs in the main warehouse. I know you have connections and failing that – you're... oh, I'm not sure how to say it."

"Failing that," I said dryly, "I'm a lot less intimidating and might be able to weasel my way into the Lord Protector's graces, or at the very least, convince him to get me somewhere alone where I can open my legs and get into his favor that way."

"I wasn't going to put it so bluntly."

He looked embarrassed. I smiled and laughed, leaning back in the chair. I wasn't about to tell him that I'd had no luck in seducing Corvo so far, but I suspected I could convince the man to make time for a conversation in-between ransacking my friend's property. I needed a plausible excuse for everyone else if that happened.

"As long as you won't be jealous," I murmured, tapping a finger on the side of my cheek thoughtfully. "And if I'm going to whore for you, I want to be paid adequately."

"Name it, Karissa."

"Oh, not yet." I laughed. "Start with lunch today, at a very nice place. I'll figure out the rest later. Now let me get dressed and then we'll head over to go speak with the Lord Protector."

My mind was racing on the way over. We took one of his carriages, which meant the ride was a bit shorter than I would have preferred. Ammunition. Why was Corvo suddenly interested in guns? Unless he'd finally taken my advice and was looking for a culprit other than Daud's former assassins. I hoped that was the case. Nathaniel continued to talk on the ride over but I was only half-listening. He was worried about his business, worried that Corvo would refuse to relinquish it back to him. I came to attention at that.

"I wouldn't worry," I replied. "From everything I've heard, the Empress is changing things. We might be heading clear of all the corruption of the past."

"I hope so," he muttered. "Heard a lot of ugly things during the plague days and those aren't long behind us."

Nathaniel's warehouse was in a part of the city that was recovering quite well from the rat plague. There were curious onlookers, just a pocket here and there, and the watch were prominently stationed at the entrances to the warehouse. I couldn't see Corvo anywhere. He was likely inside. I stepped out of the carriage and turned to Nathaniel.

"Wait for me at the Bronze Fish," I told him. "Have something strong and expensive waiting to be poured when I get there. I'll take care of it from here."

"Thank you," he said urgently, leaning forwards and he kissed me and I returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Then I broke off the contact and turned away.

If I were still in the spy business, this would be the best stroke of luck I could imagine. Not only was I putting Nathaniel in my debt, but I'd been given the combination to his safe and would have a chance to rifle through his documents on my walk to the restaurant. Sadly, I was no longer playing that game. I had a different one entirely that no longer involved money and contracts and alliances. It involved assassins and empresses and knives in the dark. I did not like the change.

I had some luck with the guard at the door. I picked the one that watched me the closest, though from the shadows I could not tell if it was suspicion or desire. Either way, I would have to deal with him. If it was the latter, he'd only be even more concerned if I deliberately avoided him in favor of the less-convenient entrances.

"I'm here to see the Lord Protector," I said as I approached. "He is inside, is he not?"

"On what business?" the man replied. Suspicion then. I was disappointed.

"Just tell him Karissa is here. I'll wait."

This was why I'd shooed off Nathaniel. He couldn't know I had prior connection to Corvo. The guard opened the door and called inside, asking one of his fellows to relay my message. It didn't take long for the response. I was let in and I refrained from doing anything but cordially bidding the guard a good day. No sense in lambasting him for doing his job. The warehouse was arranged much like my own. They all looked the same, once one saw enough. I found Corvo upstairs, in the manager's office. He was idly flipping through papers on the desk with little enthusiasm.

"Not finding anything of interest?" I asked.

"No," he sighed. "I didn't think I would, not here. I have men downstairs collecting bullets, however. That's what I'm here for. Piero says he needs a sample from each manufacturing batch to confirm a match. I've seized all the major arms dealers here in Dunwall."

"A match," I said flatly.

I'd heard Piero's name. A contemporary of Sokolov, although he'd been an unknown until he'd helped end the rat plague. I'd also heard rumors he was often in the employ of the Empire. This confirmed it.

"The assassin made another attempt last night," Corvo sighed. He leaned on the desk and I could see the tension in the muscles of his shoulders. "Got a shot off. It didn't come close - I think he was shooting off-hand - but still. We were able to recover the slug. I'm hoping we can figure out at least where he's getting his ammunition from."

"Was he wearing a mask?" I asked softly.

"Yes. Emily was in the outer part of the tower. For someone of his... talents... it wouldn't be impossible for him to get inside. I've asked Emily to stay in the inner areas. There's some fortifications that the Regent put into place that should protect her."

"You should be there with her."

His eyes closed and I saw his jaw go tight.

"Yes. I should. But I was there for Jessamine and-"

"-and it didn't change anything," I finished for him, quietly. "But things are different now though, aren't they? You're dealing with a lone person, not a group of assassins with witchcraft."

His gaze snapped up to regard me, his eyes bright and intent.

"You've seen what Daud can do," he accused.

"I have." I rubbed at the back of my neck with one hand. "I try not to think on it. There's something... wrong... there."

"So if I told you that this man was exhibiting the same power?"

I whirled on Corvo, turning my back to him and flinging my hands in the air. The frustration that burst free was like fire in my chest.

"Dammit Corvo," I snapped, "this is the sort of thing you should have told me to begin with! I _knew_ you were hiding something!"

"And you're a spy!" He sounded just as angry as I felt. "I cannot even begin to trust you! Not now, not ever!"

I inhaled sharply. This was the problem with playing this sort of game. Even when it mattered the most, we still could never trust our fellow players. Not even when we were working together. I could lay everything out for Corvo right here, even the things I swore I'd never reveal to anyone, and when I was done he still wouldn't be able to trust me.

"Okay," I sighed. "Maybe you know what you're doing more than I originally thought. I figured you were just a glorified bodyguard. My mistake. I'll shadow Terrence this evening and continue to do so until I can learn something. How about you leave this investigation to Piero and your men and stay close to Emily? If nothing else, she'd probably feel safer knowing you were close at hand."

"I-"

He faltered. I turned to look at him. His head was carefully turned away so that his dark hair hid his features. I knew what was going through his head. I knew how to read people and part of me hated myself for what I was about to do next. I walked closer to him and put a hand on his arm.

"Corvo," I said gently. "It's different this time. Emily is not Jessamine. You will be able to protect her. You exposed a conspiracy and toppled an usurper for her. You can protect her now and will continue to do so for the rest of your life. Go back to the tower. Stay by her side. She will need you. She remembers her mother's death just as clearly as you do. She's going to be afraid and your absence will only make it worse."

That did it. He inhaled sharply and looked up, something clearing in his face. I backed away, my task here done. The emotion in my tone had been faked. I felt none of it inside.

"I'll arrange for you to be admitted to the tower," he said quietly. "Report to me if you learn anything. Let me escort you out."

"A moment."

I turned and approached the safe. Corvo just watched while I opened it and removed the contents.

"A favor for a friend," I told him. "I've bought myself some time to read these before I deliver them. I don't think I'll find anything though, Nathaniel has little interest in politics. It makes him sloppy in protecting the information he does stumble across because he doesn't realize its significance, which is convenient for me."

"I'm sure," Corvo replied dryly. He'd recovered his lack of humor, at least.

Corvo offered to arrange for a carriage, but I opted to walk. I read through the documents as I did and found that they were exactly as I'd anticipated. Nothing of interest. Perhaps to my former employer, but not to Corvo. And what of this new development? A spent bullet and powers that I'd only seen once, from Daud. It was little wonder that Corvo was familiar with them, as he'd been present for the assassination of Jessamine, but judging by his reaction it seemed few people in Dunwall truly understood the nature of Daud and his band. For everyone else, it was just rumors and superstition. And I was going to march right into the teeth of that particular hell.

I hoped that whatever Nathaniel bought me was very strong indeed.


	6. The Whalers

I met Daud while spying on commercial interests. I'd just delivered what I'd been hired to find to my employer, only to discover that he'd alerted my target to what I'd done. Told me to run and laughed, walking away with the information I'd delivered and the second half of my fee. I had no choice but to do as he said. They were hunting me, in the streets, and the watch had been bought off so that they wouldn't interfere. I knew all too well what would happen if they caught me. I'd be raped, tortured, and killed. That was what sort of men these were. So I ran, with all the skill I had, and even then it wasn't enough. I was cornered between two knots of them, three strong each, in a narrow back street.

That was when Daud intervened. I didn't see him until he had his knife in the neck of the first man in the back and he pulled it free and turned to slice open the second before anyone even realized what was happening. The third was only half-turned around when he died and Daud slipped the blade into his ribs and let the body carry it to the ground.

"Down!" he yelled at me and I obeyed on instinct, dropping to the ground and covering my head with my arms.

I didn't know who he was. I wasn't a fighter. I'd never seen a man die like this before, not in person.

There was a hiss above my head and I heard a strangled cry from behind me. Shouting. Then two more hisses in quick succession and the alleyway was quiet save the gurgling from the thugs that dwindled away to silence. I got up, slowly, shaking. Daud was retrieving his weapon and he gave me a quick look as he wiped his knife clean on the thug's shirt and sheathed it at his waist. He wore a jacket that looked more reminiscent of what was popular in Dunwall and for a moment, I felt like I was thrown out of place entirely. He was handsome, I thought, in that dangerous sort of way some men had. I knew better than to get involved with them.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

"Daud," he replied, walking towards me. I shrank away but did not run.

"I've heard of you. You're not – here for me?"

His expression did not change.

"If I were, I could have just let those men do my job for me."

He had a point. I exhaled, not quite relieved yet. But I did not move when he took my arm. His grip was strong, almost painfully so.

"I know who you are Karissa," he said. "I've no love for men that betray the people they hire and I think you may come in handy someday. So I'm going to protect you for a few days here, until the commotion dies down and you can either get out of the city or ruin the man hunting you, and in turn you're going to owe me a favor."

"It's a deal," I said quickly. Even if he weren't offering me safety, I would have taken it. This was Daud. His reputation extended past Dunwall.

"Good. Now don't move and don't panic. The streets are too hot right now to stay on them."

He pulled me close to his chest, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and pinning me to him. I smelled oil, leather, and blood on him. Then the world around me wrenched and we were no longer on the street – a balcony, overlooking the cobbles and the six dead men below. Daud's grip did not relent. There was another wrench – it felt like I was falling – and then we were on a roof. I pushed against Daud and he relaxed his grip, only a little, keeping one hand still on my arm so I could not escape. I twisted in his grasp, wild with panic.

"You-you," I gasped. "Get away from me!"

"Karissa-" he began and there was no gentleness in his voice. Just impatience. He didn't want to deal with my terror.

"No!" I cried, on the verge of hysteria, "_No!_"

My hand fell on the knife I kept in my waistband. I barely had it out before Daud contemptuously knocked it out of my grip, seizing my wrist and crushing the tendons so that my fingers went senseless and released it. It fell onto the shingles and skittered off the edge to fall to the street below. Then Daud gestured with his other hand, splaying the fingers, and I felt something seize my body. Like his hand, gripping me as if I were a child's doll. I couldn't breath.

"I didn't want it to go like this," he said coldly, "but if you insist on fighting me, so be it. You'll be a lot easier to carry to safety unconscious."

When I woke, it was in a bed in a room with no windows. Daud was sitting in a chair nearby, reading. He set the book aside when I woke.

"I'm not one to be polite," he said brusquely. "You're an inconvenience to me right now. I suggest you try not to make your presence here even more intolerable than it already is."

The honesty was refreshing, at least. I sat up, gingerly, rubbing absently at my neck.

"Fine," I said. "I don't want to be around you either. I've no desire to be involved with – with – whatever that was. So if you can get me some paper and a pen, I'll write a couple letters that should put things in motion to get my foe here... taken care of. Both of them."

My voice went hard. I did not appreciate being betrayed.

"How long will that take?"

"Depends. They were both engaged in illegal doings. I'm sure the city would love to seize their enterprises. I plan to provide the incentive and let them do the rest."

"A good plan. I'll get you the paper. In the meantime, you've free run of the second floor of the house. Stay away from the windows. I'll know if you trespass anywhere else."

The way he said it left me with no doubt that he would.

"Fine." I swung my legs off the bed and stood. "Can you fetch me my things? I assume you already know where my lodging is. I want to bathe and change. I smell like you dropped me in a sewer."

"That's because I did," he replied, and walked away. I honestly wasn't able to tell if he was joking or not.

I did not ask about what happened the night he saved me. He did not volunteer information. It was just something I carried with me, kept to myself, and when Daud found me again much later I knew I would do whatever he asked of me. I was afraid of him. So very afraid.

* * *

I remembered all too well what Daud was capable of, now, as I crouched by a window and watched Terrence's office. The building was vacant from the plague and I'd taken it over for the past two days, watching Terrence come and go. I shadowed him on the street when he left. I kept in mind that he was an assassin, but this was a bit different game. Similar skills, but different enough that I felt I had an edge. I'd arranged a schedule to report to Corvo in, not every day as things would take time now, but enough that he'd be satisfied. And then I sat and watched Terrence and waited.

On the third day, he took a different path. One that led him down towards the Flooded District. It was still closed off and would likely not be rebuilt or reopened, not in my lifetime. Not unless they dealt with the flooding. There were walls of light at the major entrances to the district, but it seemed that Terrence had another way in. A small alleyway and a door. I hissed at seeing this. There was no way I could get through there without being seen. I'd have to find a different way in, perhaps through some houses and off a balcony on the other side. I turned to go and found that someone was standing behind me, had been there for any amount of time. I hadn't heard them. I gasped and backed away, but only got one step before he lunged and spun me around, then moved in tight to my back and clasped me against his body, setting a blade against my throat. He was dressed in a jacket, the kind I'd seen Daud wearing, and wore both a hood and a mask to cover his face. Not like the mask Corvo had described. He was, at least, not the assassin. It was little comfort. I could guess easily enough what he was.

"You don't think we watch this entrance?" the man said, his voice given a strange metallic overtone by the mask. "You don't think Terrence has sent us word that he's been discovered?"

This was a ruse. He'd come here simply to bait anyone that might be following him into the open. My heart sank inside my chest. I'd given no indication – otherwise, he could have come and killed me in my own warehouse anytime – which meant that Corvo hadn't been as careful as I'd have hoped. He'd left something disturbed in Terrence's room. The Lord Protector was a bodyguard and assassin, but not necessarily a spy.

"Move," the man ordered, shoving me towards the door. It seemed I was going to the Flooded District after all.

They blindfolded me on the other side and bound my hands in front of me. I was taken through the flooded streets by boat for a while, then taken up into a building along creaking hallways and crumbling stairs. The smell of stale water and old rot was heavy in the air. I didn't understand how anyone could live here, even if it was an outlawed band of assassins. When we stopped, they untied my hands, and then one held my arms behind me as another unbuttoned my vest and untied my collar. I focused on keeping my breathing even, forcing myself to be calm. I did not resist when they stripped me of vest and shirt, leaving me bare to the waist. It wouldn't do to give them a reason to hurt me so soon. They tied my hands again, careful this time, with loops and loops of rope that would hold for days if need be. And when this was done, they pulled my arms up above my head so that there was no slack whatsoever, and removed my blindfold.

There was one of them standing before me, mask on, his jacket a dark blue. The room we were in was bare, lit by lanterns along the walls. Dry, wooden floors, no windows. High ceiling with metal beams, one of which I was suspended from. A table was positioned nearby, within my field of vision, and I could see a number of small knifes set out upon it along with other tools. I was shivering from the cold and fear.

"We know you're a spy," the man said. "We'd like to know your employer as well and what interest he has in us."

My gaze flickered to the knives on the table and remained there a moment. I'd always had leverage before to get out of these situations. Hopefully what I had this time would be enough.

"It's Daud," I said evenly.

There was a moment of silence and the man walked over to the table and put his knuckles against it, letting the wood take some of his weight.

"And what does he want?" he asked. The mask hid any emotion in his voice. That would make this harder.

"I'm not certain. Just gave me some names and told me to find out where they are now. That's all. He's not exactly... forthcoming."

"No. But considering your profession, I imagine you've make inquiries on your own as to the reasons. I'd like to know what you've found."

There was a creak from the room beyond and the door opened. Terrence entered and nodded at the other assassin.

"Thomas," he said in greeting. "Anything?"

"She works for Daud."

Something flickered over the former assassin's features. Regret?

"So he is alive," Terrence murmured. "You were right."

Terrence was quiet a moment, then his attention shifted back to me. He allowed himself a smile and stepped in close. Grabbed me by the chin and raised a knife to my cheek, setting the flat of the blade against my skin. I recognized it. It was mine.

"Remember this?" he murmured. "It's not as sharp as it could be, which means you'll feel it better. Normally, we'd ship what's left of you back to your master, but since you're working for Daud we'll just dump your body in the harbor. No sense in giving him a reason to return to Dunwall."

"You seem to have no love for your former master."

"Quite the contrary."

The knife slipped lower, down to my shoulder, and the point dug into the skin. I grunted with pain.

"He gave us all a purpose and skills that remain useful today. While we no longer share in his... gifts... we've still maintained a presence here in Dunwall. Some of us left, yes, but that was expected. We appreciate his legacy. He made us powerful. Feared. But we do want to know why this sudden interest."

And he began to cut, the knife slipping in under the skin and separating it from the muscle. I screamed and jerked against the ropes and when Terrence drew away there was a cut the length of a hand along my chest, blood spilling out in a thin line down to my stomach. Thomas was still by the table, seemingly preoccupied with the tools available. I felt dizzy and sick. In the back of my head, I cursed Corvo's carelessness.

Terrence only gave me a moment to catch my breath and then he put the tip of the knife at my other shoulder.

"He wants to know if you're behind the attempts on Emily's life," I gasped, trying to shy away from the knife but lacking the slack to do so.

"What attempts?"

Terrence's voice had gone cold and he looked back at Thomas, who had turned his head to look at his fellow assassin in turn. Hope flared up in my chest. They didn't know. I'd thought – if they were behind it – I was as good as dead here, it didn't matter if I revealed that piece of information. But now... just as my ignorance had convinced Corvo to let me live, hopefully their ignorance would do the same. Daud's name wasn't enough to save me, it seemed.

"A man has tried twice now to kill the Empress," I said quickly. "Daud sent me here with instructions to find out what's become of all of you. I think he wants to know if you're responsible. I don't know what he'll do with that information though. I haven't tried to find out. He frightens me too much."

Terrence took the knife away from my shoulder and I exhaled in relief. The two assassins drew to the other side of the room and conversed briefly in voices too low for me to make out. I stared at the ground and tried to ignore the throbbing pain at my right shoulder.

"We're not responsible," Terrence finally said, the two men turning their attention back to me. "All of us are accounted for, even the ones that have left, like me. We'd not take a job like that. Not after what it did to us with Jessamine's assassination. We learned our lessons well from Daud. Now. I'm curious to know how you got into my house."

"I climbed," I lied.

"Oh? That's a feat. I bought that house for a reason. It's rather difficult to get into, even for an accomplished climber. You know who trained me, I learned quite a bit on how to defend against people with our talents. You didn't just climb. Tell me how you really got in."

I remained silent. This was something I couldn't betray. I could only keep quiet, endure, and hope that Corvo realized I'd missed reporting in and came looking for me. He seemed to know quite a bit about Daud's assassins so hopefully he'd realize that something had gone awry and have an idea of where to search for me. Unfortunately, it meant that I had to survive what was going to come next long enough for him to find me. I think Terrence saw this in my eyes, for his expression went cold, and I saw Thomas pick up a knife as well and move to join him. I fixed my gaze on the ceiling as Terrence positioned the knife against my skin, and my world dissolved into agony.

* * *

I wasn't as strong as I thought. Not nearly as strong. I broke, finally, and Terrence held my head up by my hair and Thomas gave me water so that I could speak. My voice was worn away from screaming and I'd lost the ability to support my own weight, the ropes at my wrists the only thing keeping me upright, biting into my skin as a relentless pressure. I was dizzy from blood loss and couldn't think straight. I could only answer the questions posed to me.

"How did you get in?" Terrence asked, the same question he'd been asking me since this began. I tried to focus on his words.

"I didn't," I gasped. "Corvo did."

"Corvo!?" Terrence let go of my hair and for a moment my vision swam and I drifted on the edge of unconsciousness.

"How is Corvo involved?" Thomas demanded.

"He's trying to find who is after Emily. Told me to keep watch on you and report to him as well as Daud."

"Shit," Terrence muttered. "Thomas, we can't kill her."

"Shut up," Thomas hissed. "Karissa. When are you next due to report to Corvo?"

"Every third day. Was... today, I think. How-how long...?"

"And if you missed checking in?"

"I don't know."

Thomas cut me down. I collapsed to the ground and they left me there in a heap and I could hear them talking over me while I shuddered and tried to keep from passing out. My body twisted and my stomach knotted in on itself, but brought nothing up. I coughed and spat blood out onto the ground. I'd bit my lip at some point and now the metallic taste coated my mouth and throat. Coughing was agony.

"We can't just kill her and dump her," Terrence was saying. "I promise you that Corvo is going to come after me first, trying to find what's happened to his spy. Now that we don't have Daud's gifts-"

"I know," Thomas snapped. "But you just want to release her?"

"Why not? She's not trying to hurt us, is she? Just trying to find out who is after Emily, and honestly, I think that's something we shouldn't be standing in the way of. Daud wouldn't have."

"Daud's not here anymore."

And while Thomas's mask hid it, I wondered if he was angry. Terrence certainly paused a moment at that.

"No," Terrence said carefully. "He's not. It's your call, Thomas. Completely your call. My apologies."

Interesting.

"How about this?" Thomas said. "You take her. You handle Corvo. And if you wind up dead or in Coldridge, I'll assume it didn't go well and plan accordingly."

The assassin spun on his heel and stalked out, leaving me alone with Terrence. The man knelt by my side, stripping off his jacket as he did and wrapping it around my body. I felt the fabric cling to me as it soaked up the blood.

"I was going to recommend you a tailor," I whispered. "Get you attired in something that would get you noticed."

He laughed low in his throat.

"Well, it seems you'll get that chance if I live through this," he said dryly. "Seeing as I just ruined my coat for you and all. Can you walk?"

"I don't think so."

"Then I'll carry you. Let's get you home before Corvo shows up on the Whaler's doorstep."

Funny, that. How they feared him so. I thought this was a very peculiar thing, especially with the talk of Daud's gifts and all. I could guess easily enough what those were. What had happened back in the days that Emily was missing? I'd heard the same as anyone else what was broadcast through the city, but everything else, all those other details... nothing. And now there was this connection between him and the assassins, to the point where his very name terrified them.

I was too exhausted to puzzle through it. I felt like I had all the pieces but I lacked the strength to put them together. I felt Terrence slipping his arms under my shoulders and legs and then he stood, and I clung to his shirt and rested my head on his shoulder. From there, it was all I could do focus on not passing out.

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm updating quickly, I know, but I'm getting to the really really good stuff and I'm so excited. A couple things here. There's some hints that the Whalers have no qualms about hurting people to get information, so I decided to run with that. And I know that Corvo is super-assassin here, but honestly, the most cleaning up after himself he ever does is moving the bodies around. And if you play like I did, it's a wonder no one noticed that every book was opened and everything that wasn't nailed down was missing. Corvo is not a spy. He goes in and kills/ruins people and doesn't care what happens after that._


	7. Working Relations

I think I might have fainted briefly, for I don't recall the details of the trip back to Terrence's house. Or perhaps I was just that delirious from the pain. Regardless, I was next aware of laying on my back on a table and Terrence standing over me, cleaning the blood from my wounds with a warm cloth. I cried out in the back of my throat and tried to push him away. It hurt. Terrence only took my wrists and put them up by my head.

"Don't make me tie you down," he said firmly. "Some of these are going to need stitches. Now hold still."

I tried to do as he bid. I cried out here and there, whimpering and shuddering as he continued to clean away the drying blood from the cuts that he and Thomas had left. I don't know how long this took. I was awash in pain and it seemed that was the only thing I could focus on. It even took a long moment for me to realize he'd stopped in his ministrations and was now frozen in place, there beside the table.

"We made a mistake, I admit it," Terrence said, his voice very even.

I looked up, struggling to bring things into focus. There was a long knife at Terrence's throat and he was holding very still. The blade was angled just over the vein, the wielder standing behind him. Corvo. His expression was hard.

"We didn't know the woman was yours," the former assassin continued. "We didn't know who she was working for and wanted to find out. She told us you're trying to find who is trying to kill Emily. It isn't any of us. We wouldn't dare take such a contract. Not after what happened."

There was a stress on his words. Corvo knew to what he was referring to. I exhaled and turned my head away, strangely no longer caring what happened. I wasn't going to die. That was enough for me.

"Because you're afraid of me?" Corvo asked. He sounded furious.

"Because it destroys a man," Terrence replied. "I've nothing but respect for him, but it destroyed Daud and almost destroyed the rest of us. You could have killed all of us, I think. You could have killed me. I thought, any moment, I'm going to feel a knife between my ribs, but I just struggled and blacked out and when I woke you were gone and everyone was bewildered and no one knew if Daud had lived or died after he blinked away and you followed."

"So you are frightened of me."

A moment of hesitation from Terrence.

"Yes," he finally replied. "I suppose I am. I'm no longer an assassin, Corvo. Corrupt politicians are one thing, but this business with the Empress – Dunwall is changing. I don't know how much longer there will be room for us."

"Plenty of reason for someone to want Emily dead, then."

"No – I swear it – not us. Not us."

"How can I believe you?"

Corvo's anger was being held in tight check but I wondered how long it would hold. I wondered what he'd do when it broke. I remained as still as I could, too afraid to disturb this precarious balance between the two men.

"Before you came for Daud," Terrence said, "there was a woman. She was trying to hurt Emily... to – to - possess her. Daud risked everything to stop her – I've never seen him so intent. I think he was trying to redeem himself – and maybe us. We were all there. We saw. Emily is his legacy. We'd not-"

I heard one of them move. There was a cry from Terrence and I jerked half upright in surprise, gasping as pain flared up across my body as I did. The assassin was on the ground, on his side, stirring weakly. I saw blood on his forehead from a split along the brow roughly the shape of a knife hilt. Corvo shifted to stand over him.

"Legacy?" he snapped. "Daud's legacy is Jessamine's grave!"

"Then why did you spare him?" Terrence whispered, crawling to his knees. He didn't try to get up any further.

Corvo was silent for what seemed like a very long time. Then, reluctantly, he turned away and sheathed his knife back at his waist. He returned to where I was on the table and looked at me, his gaze traveling down the length of my body, pausing to regard my torso where the damage had been inflicted. He did not seem perturbed by it and I met his gaze, not trying to conceal anything on my face. He could see my pain and fear and exhaustion.

"You're a damn terrible spy," I whispered. "You're supposed to never leave a room so that they can tell it's been disturbed."

His gaze slid back down to Terrence.

"I'm going to send one of our physicians out here to take care of her," he said. "The man is paid well enough to not ask questions and not repeat anything he sees or hears. When he's done, take Karissa home. Protect her while she sleeps and when she wakes, you answer any question she asks you about the Whalers."

So that was the story behind them. Corvo went after Daud, bested him, and let him run to another part of the Empire. And he did this despite the powers that Daud had at his command. Or, rather... I closed my eyes and listened as Corvo let himself out downstairs and Terrence picked himself up, swearing. I heard him go to clean the blood off his forehead, leaving me alone.

This was Corvo's secret, then. There had been rumors about something unnatural connected with the Lord Protector. Never proven, of course. But with this – I knew for certain now. He was the same as Daud. The rune on his hand was not a figment of my imagination. I'd thought that if I could find something, enough to ruin him, that I'd be safe. This was it. I could expose him to the Overseers and that would be it. His reputation was already stained because of everything that had happened and this would be the final thing to turn public opinion against him, despite Emily's protection.

I wouldn't be able to do it.

I rolled onto my side and cried silently and Terrence didn't say a word to me.

* * *

Everything happened as Corvo commanded. I was tended to by the physician who asked nothing and gave me something to dull the pain while he finished the work that Terrence had started. I felt the stitches he put in, distantly, like little pricks from a pin that were nothing compared to what I'd already suffered. Then, that done, Terrence rented a carriage and took me back to my warehouse. I was half-asleep already by the time he carried me in and I was only dimly aware of him putting me in my own bed.

I dreamed. I found myself standing in half a room, like it'd been broken in two and part of it left to drift in the void. There was a bed and a trunk at the end of it. I'd seen this room before. I'd been here. I'd opened the chest and looked at what was inside. My gaze was fixed on it and I felt like I couldn't move.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" a voice said from behind me.

"I don't want to remember any of this," I whispered. I recognized the voice by now.

"Which is what I find so very interesting about all this. So many memories that you refuse to look at, as if perhaps they'll just go away if you pretend hard enough. What about your brother? Do you ever think of him?"

"Stop it," I moaned. "You're just a dream. Nothing more."

"Am I? You're still that frightened little child, Karissa, hiding in her room with her hands over her ears. Wishing the music would just _go away._"

"You killed her," I gasped. "I saw you drown her."

"If that's how you remember it." He sounded amused.

"Who are you?!" I yelled, whirling on him. But he was gone and I was alone once more.

This room was not from my childhood, despite the man's taunts. It was newer. A fresher memory, one that I couldn't obscure with the fog of age just yet. It was Daud's room, from the week or so I'd remained in hiding there with him. He'd told me not to enter it. I'd done so anyway. I didn't care if he found out. I thought if he were going through all this trouble, then it meant I was valuable, and one didn't just discard of valuable assets because they didn't do precisely what they wanted. I ventured up the stairs to his room and let myself in. It was locked, but that only took time and patience. Daud had inadvertently returned my lockpicks with my belongings. Perhaps he'd had the decency to not search through my things.

Inside, I found a chest. Inside of that, I found runes. Perhaps ten of them, made of whalebone, carved with a mark. My chest hurt when I looked at them and I felt my breath come fast, the old familiar panic setting in. I'd known that's what I'd find, but I had to see for myself regardless. I slammed the trunk shut. I had to get out of there. It wasn't for fear of Daud, but for fear of the runes. I could hear their singing in my head, an old song, a familiar song. A childhood memory, haunting and transient.

I'd hid in my room and covered my ears, just as my mother's murderer had said. Wishing it would stop.

Daud was in the doorway when I rose. I stood there like a startled deer, frozen in place, and I was too panicked from my find to even be afraid of the assassin. He crossed the distance with two steps and hit me across the face, with the back of his hand. I fell to my hands and knees, tasted blood on my lip. He reached down and grabbed a wrist, pulling my arm up and twisting it so that I was forced to look at him, gasping with pain.

"I told you," he hissed.

I couldn't speak.

"I _warned_ you to not go looking about," he continued. Then he paused, cutting himself short on whatever he was going to say next. His cold eyes studied mine. Drank in my panic, and his grip on my wrist tightened, grinding the bones together.

"This isn't the first time you've seen that mark, is it?" he asked quietly.

"No," I moaned.

He released me and I fell to the floor at his feet, sobbing brokenly.

* * *

I woke crying. Terrence was there, shaking me awake and I came to with a gasp. I sat up and regretted the gesture immediately. The assassin was quick to hand me a small glass vial, telling me to drink the contents, and then followed that up with a glass of brandy – pilfered from my own stock, no doubt. I accepted both gratefully.

"What time is it?" I groaned, rubbing the tears off my face with both hands.

"Almost noon." He hesitated. "I can't say I'm sorry for what I did for you. It was necessary, considering the circumstances. But-"

"That's not what my nightmare was about," I said, twisting to get out of bed. I paused when I realized I wasn't wearing anything under the sheets. I regarded Terrence evenly, letting him see my disapproval.

"The physician insisted I clean you up to ensure infection didn't set in," he protested. "You were barely conscious by that point. He gave me instructions on how to keep everything clean... I can help change the bandages on your back, if you'll let me."

"You feel guilty about this?" I asked him quietly. He looked away, his expression frustrated.

"Guilt? No. But I understand that we made a mess of you and it's going to make what you're doing here harder. I regret that, perhaps."

"Good. Then you'll help me find this mystery assassin. Glad to have you working for me."

He began to protest, but I discarded the sheets and stood, walking past him for the bathroom, stark naked. I heard him give a huff of exasperation and he averted his gaze. Once in the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. I could survive this. I could live with this. I only had to force myself to be cold, to be strong. To bury everything deep inside, so deep that it'd never surface again. Just as I'd done when my father died, as I'd done when my brother vanished, and as I'd done for all the times after that, up until my mother was murdered.

I bathed, taking my time, and permitted Terrence to bandage the places I couldn't reach on my back. He was quiet while he did this and he was careful in how he moved, touching me no more than was necessary. Considering how forceful he'd been in kissing me in his office, I found the change interesting. That was a game, I supposed. Just a game. This was different. We were allies now.

United in our fear of Corvo. Hilarious, if I were in the mood for it.

I wore darker color, just in case one of the cuts split open and bled through. Then I asked Terrence to join me for a meal at the Silver Whale. It was a bit more private an establishment and we'd be able to talk and I could get some much-needed food.

"So Corvo told you to answer anything," I said to begin with.

"About the Whalers," he replied, "and even then, if it's not relevant, I'm not answering."

"I decide what's relevant."

"No." He glared at me from across the table. "You don't."

I was going to enjoy this relationship immensely, I could tell already.

"So why the masks?" I asked.

"That's not important." He sounded annoyed now and there was a pause as our server returned with my food.

"It is," I replied around eating. "The assassin is wearing a mask. Not like yours though."

Terrence considered this a moment.

"So either they want to hide their identity or they're influenced by others," he finally said. "There's three figures in Dunwall lore that wear masks. Us, the Overseers, and the masked assassin from the plague. Which, by the way, is Corvo."

His tone was dry, but there was an undercurrent of grim pleasure to his words. I nearly choked on my food. He smiled at my reaction.

"Oh," I whispered. "Oh wow. I'd heard that Emily cleared him of the Empress's murder and placed the blame on Daud and the Regent, but..."

"You can use that, can't you?"

There was an urgency in his voice. I inhaled sharply, realizing what he was asking.

"Yes," I finally said, "but do you really want to go down that path? If Corvo was the masked assassin, then, all those things he did... it was just to avenge the Empress and rescue Emily, wasn't it? It wasn't just some deranged criminal. Certainly, we can disgrace him if we need to, but that worked so well last time."

My sarcasm was not missed.

"It'd at least give us time to run," Terrence replied. "Get out of Dunwall."

I shook my head.

"Let's keep that as the last option," I said. "In case things go really bad. But I think I'd rather go to Coldridge than watch Corvo tear my life down around me, bit by bit. Tell me about these powers Daud had."

He did, with gentle prodding here and there. Told me of all the things that Daud could do and how he could share his powers with his followers. How he, personally, had used them. I went pale at that, I think, for Terrence paused in his explanation and asked if I was all right. I shook my head and told him that I was fine. To continue. And I kept my emotions buried deep inside me.

"So where do they come from?" I asked when he was done.

"The Outsider." He regarded me. "You don't look surprised."

"I've heard the rumors just as much as anyone else. What does he look like?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen him. I just know Daud has and Daud didn't talk much about it."

"Yeah." I laughed. "I've experienced that."

He looked curious at that comment, so I explained how I came to know Daud. It didn't seem to matter now. We were working on the same side. Terrence seemed amused by the story and I made sure to leave out certain parts. How I panicked when I first felt his witchcraft, how I broke into his room and found his runes.

"So what do we do now?" Terrence finally asked.

"Now?" I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. I was still so tired. "Now we go investigate the Overseers. We get inside, I cause a scene, and you go looking around. See if you can find a plain white mask with rounded features or a man with a broken wrist."

"The Overseers?"

He sounded surprised and perhaps a bit frightened. I gave him a tight smile, let him see my own fear.

"The Abbey is the last place I want to go in Dunwall as well," I said quietly, "but I think we have little option. Unless Corvo's bullet yields more information, we're at a loss right now. So, we investigate the only other group in Dunwall to use masks extensively."

"And what would they have to gain from Emily's death?"

"They're on poor terms with Corvo. They suspect him of heresy and aren't quiet with their accusations. Relations between the Empress and the Order is strained. And so far the assassin hasn't been terribly successful in killing Emily – perhaps he's not trying to do that so much as discredit Corvo, or force him into a situation where he has to reveal that he's using powers granted to him from the Outsider. Is that enough reasons for you?"

"It is," he said ruefully. "I'll help you. Give me an opportunity to slip away and I'll see what I can find."

It was clear that he didn't want to do this. I wondered then, what was about Dunwall that would drive us to these lengths, that we would confront that which we feared for the sake of a girl-Empress that meant nothing to us. I was from Dunwall, but I never thought of it as my home. Perhaps I was wrong.

* * *

_Author's Note: Okay I should sleep now and yes I am reading all the reviews for this, obviously._

_Oh Karissa. You and your issues._


	8. Into the Abbey

My brother vanished a few years after our father died. I remembered little of him, save that he aged quickly after our father's death and that he seemed to be the one to hold our family together, despite being so young. I adored him. I felt safe around him. Then he vanished and my mother went to pieces and we left Dunwall some years after that. I think his disappearance was the start of it all. The songs. The whispers. All those things I hid from and left me cold even in the daylight, carrying this secret that I knew I couldn't tell to anyone.

She blamed the Abbey. Who wouldn't, given the circumstances? She went there time and time again until I begged her to stop, that it was too dangerous to go now. Not with things as they were. She relented. I think that was the only time we talked openly about what she was doing. What she'd become.

I think it was for my sake that she left Dunwall. Thinking if perhaps she left the city behind, she'd leave everything else behind too. But she didn't, it followed us, and she hid it from me. I still saw, however. I knew. How she'd travel across the room in one step and how she smiled with delight as she did, like a child marveling at her toys. I saw how she'd manipulate people, how quickly they'd change when she talked to them. They'd do anything she told them to. I remembered, once, when we were traveling – we were held up by a customs officer, intent on harassing us until we bribed him to let us pass. She told him, in an undertone, that he'd let us through and then he'd go into his office, take his pistol, and shoot himself in the head. We couldn't get far away enough in time. I heard the gunshot when it went off.

When we moved in with Laut, I thought maybe it'd stop, for his sake. And she did try. She really did. But I found her runes one day and the altar she'd constructed, of old driftwood and saw how it glowed with a purple light that didn't seem possible and I'd heard the humming coming from it. I'd ran to Laut and told him of it, crying, and he tore it to pieces with his own hands and threw the runes in the ocean. He and my mother yelled at each other when she discovered what had been done and I ran from the house, out into the city and I hid there for the whole day. I only ventured back when it was dark and I went along the ocean path.

That was where I saw my mother being taken into the water, held down under the surf, and left for dead.

When they pulled her from the ocean, she wasn't wearing her gloves and I could see the mark on the back of her hand. It was pale now, the black lines dimmed to something like lines of scar tissue. As if it were nothing more than a webwork of old cuts, nothing more.

I had my reasons for not wanting to set foot in the Abbey. I was not the only one.

"The Overseers attacked us during the plague years," Terrence said as we walked. "We overcame them, but it was an ugly thing. I was captured by a group of them. They subdued my powers with those music boxes they carried and then surrounded me. I was disarmed, my hands bound behind me, and they beat me until I could hardly move. Daud came for me."

I wondered if this was why he seemed to have so much reverence for the man.

"You seem to be overcome rather easily for an assassin," I chided. "First the Overseers, then Corvo?"

He grimaced. Apparently I'd touched on a sore spot.

"We're not used to dealing with the odds being against us," he said. "Typically, our powers gave us the edge. But strip those away – or give someone powers to equal or rival – and it's possible to change the game on us."

"And you don't have your powers anymore," I said quietly.

"No. I don't. But I have plenty of other tricks, don't worry."

I likely knew some of them. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, you could accomplish quite a bit without anyone ever questioning it. Personally, I would masquerade as a serving girl. I imagined that being a man, Terrence would have other options. It'd only take subduing one Overseer to obtain a uniform and with the masks they wore, he'd be able to go almost anywhere in the complex without discovery. I'd have to keep the commotion significant to give him room to work.

We reached the Abbey sooner than I would like. We'd waited until evening, so that dusk would provide some shadows for Terrence to work in. In addition, we had some preparation to do beforehand. We needed the Abbey emptier than it normally was, and one way to accomplish this would be a wild goose chase. To do that, we needed a target to hand them. Terrence found an a house abandoned by the plague and let us in, and we spent the majority of the day cleaning it up. Most of the original inhabitant's possessions were still there – this was not uncommon. The looters were still ransacking the more affluent portions of the ravaged city and the poorer districts were largely still untouched. We cleaned and set things up, as if this place had been recently lived in. And then Terrence brought me the rats and left me alone to work. He did not ask how I knew what to draw on the floor and walls.

I could still smell the stench of their bodies and blood as we approached the Abbey. It was only my imagination, I knew – I'd cleaned up well enough – but the memory was enough. I stared up at the massive building to distract myself. The walls from the plague days were still up but they were no longer guarded by walls of light. Just some Overseers stationed on watch duty. They'd admit the public easily enough. One of them held a music box, but it was idle. I watched Terrence closely for a reaction when he saw it, but there was none. I shouldn't have been surprised. This was closer to his element, facing danger like this. It was my world, the one of lies and words, that he was unfamiliar with.

I, on the other hand, took in the tall walls of the building beyond – their severe, straight lines – and looked away. Old ghosts.

"I need to know why you're doing this before we go in," I said, turning to face him. "It's not just that you're scared of Corvo. What is it you're looking for here?"

"Karissa..." He turned away, clearly not wanting to answer.

"I'm serious," I said stubbornly. "I'll call this entire thing off if you don't answer. I'm about to walk in there and face something that has frightened me my entire life. I need to know I can trust you."

"I thought spies didn't deal in trust."

"This is a different situation. I'm breaking the rules."

"Tell me why you flinch when you look at the Abbey."

So he'd noticed. I sucked in a sharp breath and it was an effort to speak.

"My brother disappeared," I said and it was only a lifetime of practice that kept my voice steady. "My mother came here to demand to know what had happened to him. She brought me and I waited outside, close to this spot here. They finally threw her out, two Overseers had to drag her along between them, and she cursed them from the street."

I felt like I was throwing myself off a cliff but Terrence did not seem to notice how difficult those scant words were for me to say out-loud. I did not tell him the rest of it. How she'd cursed them still, in the days after we returned home, and how the two that had thrown her out of that building later died in terrible ways. I still remembered the stink of blood on my mother when she came home, so late at night.

"Fair enough," Terrence said. "I'm here for two reasons. One is to protect the Whalers. I left, but there's still loyalty there. If we don't find who is responsible for this, I fear Corvo will be forced to assume we're responsible and take steps to remove us from Dunwall permanently. The second reason is to put Daud's ghost to rest. Some of us admired him, some of us hated him, some of us envied him... but all of us were trained by him and shared in his gifts. He began to change there, near the end, and while some of us saw it as weakness, others – like Thomas – saw something else. And when he vanished and Thomas assumed control, he finished those changes that Daud was beginning. We lost some of our own, either by leaving or Thomas killed them to solidify his power."

"And you were one of the ones that left."

"Thomas isn't Daud. As much as I respect him, I was truly loyal to Daud, and I suppose I just couldn't change. So that's why I'm here. Paying off my last debt."

"What were those changes, out of curiosity?" I murmured, hoping I wouldn't break the spell. It seemed this was something he'd not talked about to anyone and he lacked the spy's solitude to keep these things inside. I knew how hard that could be. They festered there, in the dark. Turned our souls rotten.

"We look beyond the immediate," he replied. "We see what our actions will do. We consider the consequences. Dunwall may someday collapse in on itself, but it won't be by our hand."

"And next time, you might not have someone as merciful as Corvo go through your ranks like a whirlwind."

"Trust a spy to be cynical."

"It's the only thing you can trust about us." I gave him a tight smile. "All right. Let's go."

We approached the gateway. The guards stopped us and inquired our voices. Underneath the masks, their voices all sounded alike.

"I seek council," I said, my voice quivering. "About my sister."

And right on cue, Terrence put his hand on my shoulder. I leaned into him and smelled the leather of his jacket and a hint of steel buried somewhere underneath that. I was reassured. He was armed.

They admitted us, telling us to go straight through the courtyard with the bored indifference of men who had done this many times before and thought this time would be no different. We walked in, Terrence's arm around my shoulders and holding me close, as if giving me comfort and support. Perhaps he was. My heart was pounding and I wondered if the Overseers could hear it, could see into my soul and know what I'd been born of. What blood was in my veins. I controlled my fear through an effort of will. This was not the first time I'd walked into the teeth of my enemies and smiled and lied to their faces and deceived them. They were only flesh and blood.

"Once we're inside," Terrence said, "and I've slipped off, keep them distracted for perhaps fifteen minutes. That's all I'll need to get hidden away. I'll meet you later, at your warehouse."

"And if you don't show up?" I whispered.

"If I'm not back by morning, inform Corvo. Let him handle it from there."

The Lord Protector's reach stopped at the Abbey's walls. However, considering what Terrence had told me – considering what I suspected – these walls and those politics would not be enough to stop Corvo, if he were so determined to enter. I felt reassured by this. If Terrence were captured, he'd only need to hold out long enough for Corvo to come for him. I suspected the assassin was made of stronger stuff than I was. Absently, I raised a hand to my shoulder, feeling the lines of bandages underneath my shirt. The cuts still hurt, a distant stab of pain when I moved. It would be this way for a while.

There was one Overseer inside the main lobby, preaching to a modest crowd of perhaps fourteen people. I drifted off to the side, Terrence remained a discreet distance away, and I put on a worried and confused expression. It didn't take long for someone to notice me and I urgently went to the Overseer that approached me, my hands twisting together.

"Child," he began, but I cut him off.

"My sister," I gasped. "There's something wrong with my sister."

I grabbed the hem of his jacket sleeve and he paused, then carefully put his other hand over my own. A soothing gesture. I wondered if they were trained to reassure frantic guests like this. Counsel was within their formal duties.

"I threw her out," I continued, my voice growing louder with feigned hysteria. "She was living with us and I threw her out onto the street and she cursed at me. All the neighbors heard!"

I was attracting attention. Good. Already, another Overseer had left his station by a door to come see what was happening. Terrence slipped through as soon as everyone's backs were turned.

"Sometimes we must be harsh to help those we love," the Overseer murmured, "Come. Follow me and tell me what brought this on."

I snatched my hands away from him, drawing back. I didn't want him to lead me away from the lobby. No doubt they had a cloister which would afford some privacy for those things that couldn't be said in public, but a scene is exactly what I wanted.

"The rats!" I cried. "She was killing them! I found them in her room, under her bed, and there were circles and drawings all in their blood! She said I'd regret putting her out onto the street, that I'd pay, that – that -"

That did it. I had three Overseers now, possibly every one that wasn't currently occupied. Even the one lecturing was faltering in his dialogue.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" I moaned.

One Overseer took me by one arm, the other put his hand on my opposite shoulder. They were polite, but firm, and they led me away from the lobby to an adjacent room. I didn't resist. If I kept these three tied up, it should give Terrence room to move about, and he didn't necessarily need the lobby occupied now. Not when he'd already slipped into the rest of the Abbey. They set me down on a sofa in front of an unlit fireplace – the room was well-appointed, but there were no loose valuables of any kind. It was designed for the general public.

"I'm so scared," I whispered, burying my face in my hands. I heard the Overseers conversing at the doorframe. Their voices were low but I was a keen listener and could make out fragments. They were sending for one of their superiors. Another Overseer sat down in a chair opposite me. I couldn't tell them apart.

"Did you touch anything you found in her room?" he asked.

"No. No, of course not. I fled as soon as I saw, just ran out of the room and downstairs. Grabbed her and threw her out onto the street. Then I came straight here."

"You said there were drawings. What did they look like?"

Another Overseer slipped paper in front of me. I shook my head and shoved it away.

"No," I said. "I can't. They're wrong, they – they – felt so wrong. I can't."

"It's safe here," he said, his voice gentle. "They don't have power in these walls."

Hah. I didn't believe that for an instant. But, reluctantly, I allowed myself to be cajoled into picking up the paper and pen and drawing some circles. I'd seen them before. I'd knelt there on the floor and scrubbed them away when my mother wasn't home. She'd hit me, when she returned later, and found them gone. I left out enough details on these to give the impression that I'd barely taken a look before turning away.

Their superior arrived in good time. By now, there were six Overseers in the room, either curious, or observing for practical reasons. I was starting to feel trapped and I didn't try to conceal my growing agitation. It'd add to the performance. The superior Overseer – I didn't know what else to think of him, not knowing their internal power structure – asked similar questions to what I'd already answered. Reviewed the drawings I'd put down on paper. Then, he asked what my address was, and gave the order I'd been waiting to hear.

"Take eight men and investigate," he said to his men. "Bring a music box. Set three patrols in the area. Ma'am – your sister – does she look like you?"

"Yes," I said. "She's a bit taller and thinner, and her hair is short, but otherwise we look alike."

"Give the patrols that description. Cover the district."

"What's going to happen to her?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"If she's involved in witchcraft, then we will do what is necessary," he replied. His tone was soothing, despite the news he was delivering. "You were right in what you did. No evil will touch you, for your soul is clean."

"And what of my house?" I whispered.

"It will be cleansed. You will need to stay away from it until we have decided it is safe to return to."

He gave me instructions from there. There was an inn not far from the Abbey, he said, that I could board at. The Abbey would cover the expense. I was surprised at that, it was a change from what I'd head in previous years. Perhaps, like Dunwall, the Abbey was starting to change. Perhaps the Empress's reforms were reaching even here. I was invited to stay here longer if I liked, and speak with the Overseers, but I refused. I told them I needed to be alone, that I was overwhelmed, but I'd feel safe now that I knew they were out looking for my sister. That I wasn't in that house with all that rat blood. I allowed them to escort me as far as the gate, and then one insisted on accompanying me to the inn itself, where he left me.

I waited until he was gone out of sight and then I turned away from the door and continued on down the road. They'd find the house. They'd search the streets surrounding it. And all the while, Terrence would have significantly fewer Overseers to deal with inside the Abbey.

Brilliantly done, I thought. I might come to like having a partner to work with.

* * *

_Author's Note: Anyone see the bit about her mother coming?_


	9. The Altar

I tried to wait up for Terrence, but it was difficult to do. The night ran long and I finally slipped off into sleep, despite my resolve, and I did not come around until I was shaken awake by Terrence himself. I was in my sitting room above the warehouse, in one of my chairs, and I'd fallen asleep that way, half falling over the edge of the armrest. I was stiff and it took a movement to coerce my body to respond. Terrence was lighting the gas lights as I stretched and blinked sleepily.

"You shouldn't sleep like that," he said. "I imagine you're uncomfortable enough already from being tortured."

He didn't even flinch as he said it. I frowned.

"I was trying to stay awake for when you returned."

"Well, you shouldn't do that either."

He went to my liquor cabinet and started helping himself to some brandy. I noted that he at least had the decency to pour me a glass. I wasn't certain if his manners were a holdover from his assassin days or a deliberate slight towards my own domain here, in my own property.

"What did you find?" I asked.

He glanced at me, warily.

"I think you should see for yourself," he replied. "We can go now, if you're up to it. It's still some hours before dawn."

"Is that safe?"

"Yes." He drank deep of the brandy. I saw that his hands trembled slightly. What had he found? "What I found is in the tunnels below the city. I stole a key to the gates that seal the Abbey off from the rest of the city. We can come and go quite easily."

"Sewers." I rubbed at my face with my gloved hands and exhaled hard. "I don't like the idea of that."

"You want answers?"

He waited expectantly. I sighed and stood, walking over and catching up the glass he'd poured for me, still in his hand. I swallowed a heavy mouthful.

"Yes," I replied. "I do. Let me change into something a bit less... nice, if we're going to be traipsing through the gutter."

I had working girl clothing. I vanished into my bedroom and emerged in plainer clothing, my vest a beaten brown tweed and my boots scuffed leather. Terrence didn't say anything, just led me through Dunwall's streets. I felt a flicker of apprehension when he led me to a door set halfway down in the street that he said led to a basement that had a sewer entrance. I waited as he listened at the door to see if the owners were up and in the basement. The streets were mostly clear, this late at night, save for the handful of people that had legitimate business in the early hours before dawn. There weren't many of those and the people that had other business, like us, were careful not to be seen. Then Terrence opened the door and let me pass to a basement almost completely empty. It seemed whoever owned this building didn't like to be down here. I couldn't say I blamed them.

The sewer entrance was down a drain set in the floor, perhaps three feet by three feet, and Terrence dropped down this first and then I followed. I knelt and then slipped my body down, wincing at the pain from the cuts littering my torso, and was relieved when I felt Terrence's arms wrap around my legs and he took my weight and lowered me to the ground beside him. I let out a huff, breathless from the brief pain.

"I wish I were healed already," I groaned.

"It takes time." Still no trace of guilt in his voice.

"I'm probably going to get an infection from being down here."

"We'll stay out of the water and change the bandages when we get home."

He spoke in the plural for both tasks. I wondered how I felt about that. He'd see me naked, but that was nothing new. He'd seen that already, but now that I thought back on that, I wondered if I was still comfortable with letting him do so again. Things had changed. He'd walked too close to things I wanted to keep hidden from my past and I wasn't certain if I was ready to be quite that... vulnerable... around him now. Sex and sex appeal was one thing. I didn't balk from that because I had a goal and I had the control, I was the one dictating how it would go and besides, it wasn't really me doing those things. It was the spy, that cold heart of mine ruling the body, while me – the real me – sat quietly in the shadows and waited. She'd been waiting there for a long time in the dark.

It didn't take long to reach the Abbey's underground. Terrence told me everything he'd done after he'd left me. He had made his way upstairs and found an Overseer, alone, and knocked him unconscious and left him bound up in a out of the way place, first taking his jacket and mask. He'd searched about then, going everywhere he thought he could get away with, until the man had been found – a good deal of time after I'd left, apparently – and Terrence had been forced to make his exit. He'd gone down into the lower levels and then into the sewers, as the upstairs was too hot to risk. He'd stolen some keys on his way out and used those to unlock the gates. It was luck that led him across his discovery.

"The Abbey itself has little of interest to us," he told me. "I think we're dealing with a lone individual. I found something of his lair here, beneath the Abbey."  
He let us through the last gate and after that whispered that we should be quiet. There was no guarantee they hadn't set a patrol down here, just in case. Or that they hadn't figured out his route of escape. Our path remained unimpeded though, through the shattered tunnels beneath the city. They were in better repair than most other parts, at least, and the one part where the walk crumbled and we had to actually enter the water Terrence carried me across. He was serious about not letting me get wet where I'd been cut open and I was grateful for it. I hadn't been joking about the fear of infection either.

Our destination was an alcove, a chamber off the main passageways where the brick wall had partially fallen down, revealing a room beyond that was part natural hollow and part man-made. The floor was smooth and the ceiling was low. I went first, ducking inside, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.

There was a trunk, undisturbed. I was glad to see that Terrence hadn't made Corvo's mistake. And there was an altar. I felt my chest seize up with old fear as I stared at it, even as Terrence ducked inside the small room with me. I could hear the singing.

It glowed with an unearthly light, the spars of driftwood shot through with specks like ember, and a single rune sat on the makeshift table that was draped with a scrap of black velvet. I moved towards this, as if in a trance. I remembered this from when I was a child. I'd ran from it, crying, and then stood in the doorway and watched as Laut ripped the driftwood away from it, scattering the pieces across the floor. How all the lights had faded and died and I'd felt so cold for a long time after.

I needed to do the same here. That was my only thought. To tear it apart.

"Oh Karissa," a voice sighed, "I'd rather you not do that."

And the man from my dreams was there. He was just in front of the altar, his feet perhaps a foot off the ground, toes pointed slightly down in his leather boots. He stared down at me, black hair cut short against his brow, his eyes black like night. I couldn't speak. My throat felt tight.

"Normally I'd not appear to someone so mundane," he continued, "but you, Karissa, are a _special_ case. Your mother saw to that, didn't she?"

His gaze drifted over my shoulder, towards where Terrence was behind me. Did he see this? I couldn't tell. My thoughts and senses were consumed by the apparition before me. I knew him. He was the same as the man that had appeared in my dreams and the same as the one that had drowned my mother.

I thought I knew his name by now. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to admit it. I was just as he said, that frightened child hiding in her room, hands pressed over her ears. Trying to block out the music.

"And what of him?" the man said, regarding Terrence. "Can you bring yourself to trust him? Daud sent you straight into his hands without warning or reason or anything to protect you. You think this is the way of the world – that the strong will devour until they're filled to the brim and their stomachs burst and run rotten into the gutter. Is he any different? Is Daud? Is Corvo?"

He paused and his gaze settled back on me. He had no pupils, but I knew this was so.

"So what will you do now?" he whispered. "Run and hide? But where will you run to? You have a lot more enemies now than you did back then and they hover at the walls of Dunwall. Watching. Waiting. Trying to see if you're weak enough to pick off yet. Sooner or later, Karissa, you will have to face your ghosts. Your mother cursed your entire line and you can run and run but we will always find you in the end."

Then he was gone and I was left breathless. I was aware of Terrence calling my name and I whirled, startling him. He'd been about to touch my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I saw – you went still and didn't respond when I said your name. Did you – did you see him? The-"

"Don't say it," I interrupted, "Don't. Just... get that trunk open."

I couldn't face this. Not yet. Not here. Terrence did as I asked and I inspected the contents inside when he'd done so without actually touching anything. Plain clothing. I edged them aside, after first memorizing their layout and the folds, and found a blank white mask at the bottom. Of course. I sighed and returned everything to how it had been and then Terrence shut the chest and got the lock flipped back to closed. I studied the room a moment. No sign of us disturbing it.

"Let's go," I said in a low voice. "We need to see Corvo."

He didn't question my decision. He just led me out of the sewers and back onto the street. It was sunrise by now and I was starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep. It could wait. Everything could wait. I needed to see Corvo. I would lay all this at his feet and then, surely, I'd be done with it. I could walk away. I could lose myself in games and intrigue and I'd become someone else and that child crying inside could be silenced for a little while longer.

It was a mad thought, but I was beyond caring. If Terrence sensed this, he said nothing. We were admitted to Tower after a few minutes while the guards called in our identity and received permission. We were both searched first and that took significantly longer for Terrence. He was quite cross at being disarmed, but refrained from putting up more than a protest than some grumbling. By the time they were done, Corvo was already down at the guard station to meet us. He waited while I situated my clothing to my liking again and then bid us both to follow him.

"I apologize for the treatment," he told us as he led us through the tower hallways, leading us steadily higher along the floors, "but there are no exceptions. Unless cleared, you cannot carry weapons, and neither of you are cleared. No offense, but you are a spy and an assassin."

"Former assassin," Terrence replied curtly. Corvo ignored the comment.

He took us to his office. It was well-appointed with paintings all along the walls and tall windows on one side, curtains pulled off to either side. A young girl sat on a low couch before them, reading through a small stack of documents that rested beside her. I stopped in my tracks when I saw her and Terrence almost ran into me. She wore white and her short hair was a rich black.

The Empress.

She hadn't noticed that Corvo wasn't alone. He went to her side and I heard him lean down and say something to her, softly. She put her document aside and stood, turning to regard us both. I felt her dark eyes settle on my face. She looked so young. It took my breath away. This was what I'd been working against, while taking money from my former employer.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Karissa" she said demurely and I gave a perfect curtsey at her acknowledgment. "And Terrence. Corvo has told me of both of you and your role in the matter involving my masked assailant."

So well spoken. I was impressed. What kind of childhood did she have, to have this sort of bearing so young? Hard circumstances made hard people and Emily was certainly hard, there beneath her young features. Like recognized like well enough.

"That's what we've come about," I replied. "Corvo, a word alone, if you don't mind?"

"This is alone," he replied sharply. "Say what you've come to say."

If that's how it would be, then. I took a breath.

"We found the lair of the assassin," I said. "It's in the sewers underneath the city. There was an altar there and a carved rune upon it."

I decided to take a risk.

"The emblem matches the rune on your hand," I stated.

Corvo sucked in a breath but Emily's composure remained unchanged. I saw the Lord Protector absently cover the back of his left hand with his right. No wonder he wore gloves. No wonder Daud did as well.

"How did you know this?" Corvo demanded. There was anger in his tone. No fear. Just anger.

"I'm responsible for that," Terrence sighed. "I thought you were going to keep that to yourself, Karissa..."

"And I told you, I've no desire to test what would happen if we brought Corvo to ruin," I replied coldly. "I'm banking that the same man who spared Daud will spare us as well."

Corvo swore under his breath and rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. I saw him set his shoulders, bracing himself, and then he turned to regard Emily. Ah. I'd said far too much, it seemed. As I'd intended. Corvo needed to know the sort of power I could wield against him, if I so willed it. I'd no doubt he'd spare us at this point, his record said as much, and now I just needed to command his respect.

"Emily," he began, but the girl cut him off.

"I knew," she said. "I guessed."

"I told you Daud was dead though."

"I figured that you'd lied." She shrugged. "I was angry at first but... I understand now."

Her tone went quiet and she turned her back and walked to the window. Grieving her mother once again, I thought. Those things never healed. I knew this from experience. Corvo's attention turned back to us.

"So we know this person has powers like mine and Daud's," he said, regaining his composure. "And that he lairs under the Abbey."

"Did the report on that bullet come back?" I asked.

"Yes," Emily supplied from the window. "It comes from a supplier that has a contract with the Overseers."

"This tells us quite a bit," I murmured. "The mask is potentially two-fold. If it were just a mundane assassin, I would surmise it was only to conceal his identity. Considering the involvement of arcane forces, however, and the penchant for dementia associated with those altars... I'd say the mask is both to conceal identity and something of an obsession. A desire to become something else – a continuation of the perceived work of the masked miscreant, perhaps? A carrying out of religious duties outside what is proscribed by the Abbey? A homage to the Whalers?"

"It isn't us," Terrence replied tightly. "Thomas has kept better watch on us rogues than this. If one of us had been marked, he'd know."

"Would he?" Corvo asked, his voice tight. "Still. Karissa's theory holds more weight right now. I'll leave yours well enough alone – for now. Unfortunately, this poses a problem of our target being within the Abbey, which is difficult for even my influence to pierce."

"Especially with the rumors of how you escaped Coldridge still floating about," Emily sighed. "We need a name if we're to act on anyone."

I drifted away from them, thinking. I liked to walk when I thought. I studied the paintings along the wall. They all looked like Sokolov's work and I was surprised to see so many. I saw some I even thought were in private collections, scattered throughout the city. Perhaps Corvo had them brought here during the plague days to preserve them. I traversed them all, finally ending up on the last one in the corner, hidden in shadow.

A man. Black eyes. The same man, the one from my dreams, the one that had drowned my mother. And at the base of the painting, on the frame, I read the title.

The Outsider.

A name I'd avoided. A name I'd fled from for so long. And now, confronted with it so starkly, I could not run any longer. I'd run out of room, I was cornered. Trapped. And the frightened little girl in me finally broke her chains.

* * *

_Author's Note: The Outsider doesn't even need to give Karissa his mark to still screw with her. She's got plenty of damage for him to toy with already._


	10. Falling Away

The witchcraft started after my father died. Factory accident. She'd gone there to demand answers and they'd turned her away and she'd fallen into a black mood, so deep it was as if a stranger had taken my mother's place. She'd go to the shore and walk for a long time, in the early hours of the dawn, and I think it was there she found her rune. She carried it with her, for luck, and in time she began to forget my father. Then one morning she woke and there were marks on her hand and I was too young to question them. My brother hid all of this from me. He'd tell me stories if I ever thought I could hear the song of the rune so that I forgot it and he covered up the drawings my mother made in blood. He sheltered me from all of it and I remained blissfully ignorant.

Then they took my brother and I was left with just my mother.

I thought for most of my childhood that the Abbey took him. As I grew older, I thought perhaps he'd ran away. For after he was gone, my mother's attention turned to me. I would be her legacy. And that was when she began to hit me and while I often thought of running away myself, I could not. I was all she had left. I'd lost my father and my brother. I couldn't lose my mother too.

My mother only wanted the best for me. That is what she'd tell me, when she held me close. I remembered the touch of her fingers as they stroked my hair. Her hands always felt cold to me and that is what I started to associate with her. Cold. Distance. I'd sit there and let her console me and be the daughter she wanted me to be. I'd pretend to forgive her and the entire cycle would start again.

She'd sing. In time, I could no longer tell her songs from the singing of the runes she kept. They haunted my waking moments and I'd bear it as best I could. She'd sing to me of the future, that I was special and that she would see that I would be given everything I deserved. That the world would bow at my feet. I was her legacy, her heir. Her mark upon history. She'd tell me that I was special, that I was chosen and that I would do great things. I was her future, she'd tell me, in dreamy voice and when she sang songs to me I think I believed it. Later, reality would sink in, like the ocean water had washed away the fog she cast over my mind. My own mother, bewitching my mind. I'd cry and tell her to stop, that I hated her and wanted nothing of the things she could do, and she would lose herself in those moments and hit me until I relinquished broken at her feet. Her own child. We were strangers sharing the same bloodline.

I lived in a perpetual state of fear. My mother was almost brazen with her power. It was a relief when she finally decided to leave Dunwall and I thought that perhaps things would be different. For a time, it was. I only had to ignore the signs here and there. It wasn't until I found the altar that I realized that I couldn't run, that leaving Dunwall had changed nothing and I was just pretending that things were normal and that there wasn't this black taint in my family. I'd thought it would end when Laut tore the altar apart. I thought perhaps the singing would end, forever, and I'd ran from their argument and ran and ran until I almost collapsed in the street from exhaustion. What did the people think of this tear-stained child running like her heart would burst through their small city? No one tried to help me. I was alone.

And then when I returned home that evening... thinking that perhaps it was over... that this would end... that was when I saw her. Being led into the water. And when it was done and she was dead and he – the Outsider – looked at me, I knew. This wasn't done. Even with her dead, it wasn't done. He knew me, he'd learned my face, knew my name. And it wouldn't end, not until he willed it, not until I was in his grasp and he held me down and I breathed in water and died in the dark.

I was my mother's legacy. The world would bow at my feet. That was the song she sang to me.

I was dimly aware of both Corvo and Terrence converging on me. They took my arms and pulled me away from the painting. I was fighting them, weeping openly, but they pulled me to the couch that Emily had been sitting on and forced me down on it. Emily was about to call for help but Corvo stopped her, asking her to just wait a moment.

"Maybe we pushed her too hard?" Terrence suggested. "She was interrogated by both myself and Thomas..."

"She was looking at the painting of the Outsider," Emily said.

There was a silence between the three. I was shaking now, my chest tight with sobs, my breathing constricted. The Outsider. He'd done this. He'd done this to me, to my mother. She'd worshiped him and he gave her power and she did terrible things with it and then, when Laut tore down her altar, he killed her. I couldn't fight against that so I ran and kept running.

I wouldn't be like her. I wouldn't be like my mother.

How could I outrun the Outsider though? He'd make me into something terrible, just as he'd done to my mother, just as my mother was going to do to me.

I must have been saying something, for suddenly Corvo grabbed either side of my face and forced me to look at him. His dark eyes met mine and for a moment all I could see was his gaze locked with mine.

"Listen to me," he said, his words cutting through my terror. "You don't have the Outsider's mark and even if you did, your will is still your own. Do you hear me? He does not control you. Not now. Not ever."

"My mother-" I gasped.

"She had the Outsider's mark? Show me your hand. Show me your hand, Karissa!"

Terrence removed my gloves. He forced my hand up, my left, so that both Corvo and myself could see it. Bare skin. I flinched away from the sight but Corvo let go of my face and stripped off his own gloves. He held up his own hand and I saw the lines there, stark black, like a tattoo, like lines burned into wood. I cried out and covered my face at the sight.

"No!" I yelled. "No, no!"

"You're not marked!" Corvo said firmly. "You have nothing to fear – dammit."

"You could try hitting her," Terrence suggested dryly.

That cold suggestion brought me around somewhat, the words sinking through.

"Just get away from me," I gasped. "I need – I need air."

They moved away. I sat there, shivering, trying to bring myself back under control. That part of me – Karissa, the spy – seemed so distant now. Just out of my reach. Something had broken free inside me and it was like a wild beast now, rampaging through the hallways of my mind and throwing open all the doors, breaking all the locks. The Outsider had said my ghosts would catch up eventually. Now that they were all free, I could not seem to imprison them again.

She'd sing to me and I'd believe it. She'd sung to others, she told them what she wanted and they walked willingly to their graves. My path was paved with bones, even as a child.

"Karissa," Corvo said, keeping a careful distance. "We need you functional, so this can't last. What has happened to you?"

"My mother had the Outsider's mark," I gasped. "She did... terrible things."

"You said once that a man with black eyes killed your mother. The Outsider?"

I only moaned in response and closed my eyes. I saw it so clearly.

"But that's not possible," Terrence said. "I mean, everything I've heard from Daud – it wasn't much, granted – but that isn't-"

"I know," Corvo snapped in response. "Karissa. That doesn't sound like how the Outsider acts. Are you certain you're remembering it right?"

"I saw. I saw him. He looked at me!"

Corvo sighed and he exchanged looks with Emily and Terrence. I swallowed hard. I needed to get this under control. My breathing was growing calmer now and so long as I avoided looking at the corner that held the painting of the Outsider, I might be able to regain control. Lock all that away again. Forget for a little while longer. I just needed to get on my feet so I could start running again. This was just a stumble. Nothing more.

"It's nothing," I said, wiping the tears from my face. "I'm sorry to cause a scene. None of this is relevant, I apologize for letting it interfere with the problem at hand."

"Not relevant?" Corvo snapped. "I happen upon a spy with a history that's been touched by the Outsider, who is acting on orders from Daud – who has the Outsider's mark, while I'm searching for clues regarding an assassin that has the Outsider's mark? I cannot possibly believe this is all a coincidence."

I just sat there and shook my head. No. That was my past. I shut it away. I left it behind. I forgot it.

"If I might make a suggestion," Terrence said tactfully, "perhaps we should let Karissa rest for a bit? Neither of us have slept this past evening, well, Karissa caught some but it couldn't have been restful, and we've nothing to gain by exhausting ourselves at this point."

"I believe you're correct," Emily replied. "Corvo, we will need to tap our contacts within the Abbey. See if they have an Overseer that's broken his wrist recently. It will have to be discreet."

"That can be done," Corvo agreed. "Until we have a name, there's not much more that can be done. Terrence, go on home. I'll send for you when you're needed."

Terrence did not seem to like his dismissal, but he was hardly in a position to protest.

"Just so we're clear," Terrence said and I heard his voice go tight, "I'm serving you because I don't want you to kill me or any of the Whalers. Or ruin us, since killing doesn't seem to be your style. But after this is done, I'm done. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Corvo replied, his voice just as hard. "I don't think I'll need a powerless assassin in my employ, anyway."

The insult was accepted with only a faint grimace from Terrence. Then he bowed to Emily, and his footsteps were brisk as he walked away. I was left alone with just the Empress and the Lord Protector. I hardly felt safe.

"Now, Karissa," Corvo said, his attention turning back to me. "I will want an explanation on all this. You can give it to me now, or after you rest, but I will have an answer."

"I want to rest," I whispered. I needed time.

"Very well. I'll arrange a guest room here in the tower."

"But-"

"I fear you'll try and slip away."

He did have a point. In the state I was in, the thought had crossed my mind already. That I'd get out of here and just run and risk the retribution of my enemies outside of Dunwall. I was too exhausted and frightened to think clearly. I just nodded mutely and Corvo summoned servants.

He gave them instructions to tend to me when they arrived. He told them I'd been injured, deliberately, and was suffering from hysteria as a result. That they were to see me cleaned up, my bandages changed, and then allowed to sleep and that someone was to remain with me. They did as he ordered and I complied with their efforts, glad to be clean of the sewer and glad that my wounds were healing well with no trace of infection. Then, dressed again in fresh clothing, I was taken to a guest bedroom and allowed to sleep, and one of the servant girls volunteered to sit there the entire time and not leave me alone. I allowed her, finding this oddly reassuring. I'd always slept alone. Even when I slept with men in their beds, I was alone, for I was there to steal their secrets and ruin them. There was no closeness. Now, with a stranger watching over me for no other reason than she thought it'd help, I felt safe.

The feeling would not last. In the last seconds before sleep stole me away, I thought I heard the singing of a rune.

The pieces were falling all around me and it seemed the Outsider would have a hand in them even as they tumbled through the void.


	11. An End to Illusion

I was standing on a broken shoreline. It fell away into the void behind me and to my left and right, leaving me staring at the sand and the edge of the water, frozen into place, the spray floating there like beads of glass. The light was peculiar. Not dark, but not light either. I knew this scene. I knew it all too well.

"You've been avoiding this," a voice said from behind me.

The Outsider. I didn't turn. He walked around to stand beside me, his black eyes fixed on the scene painted out before me, frozen in time. He'd created this. He knew what it would do to me.

"What do you want?" I asked softly.

So here we were. Myself, stripped of the lies I'd told myself at last, facing my ghosts. Of course he would show this to me. It was only a matter of time.

"I want you to look."

I couldn't. I turned my head. I couldn't breathe. I felt like something was pressing against my chest, an invisible weight crushing me in pieces. The Outsider watched me in silence and I could not help but note his expression, an instinct honed by the years I'd spent stealing secrets from all walks of humanity. There was no expression in his face and his black eyes betrayed no emotion, save, perhaps, a quiet indifference.

"I remember it fine," I whispered. "You killed her. You held her down under the water."

"You're remembering wrong," he said. "Look again."

"I can't. No."

I closed my eyes. He couldn't make me look. I couldn't bear to see it again.

"I saw you," I said, feeling tears building in my eyes. "You took her into the ocean and killed her. She built a shrine to you, she kept those – those – things! They sung, I heard them in my dreams. She killed people – she hurt me! I hated her, my own mother – I hated her!"

"It is not my fault what she did with her power," he said without a single trace of remorse. "I only give it. You make the choices."

"You took her." It was hard to speak. My breath was coming too fast, my lungs convulsing with an old, old grief.

"Look again. _Look, _Karissa."

I felt his hand on my face. His fingers, raising my chin up. I could not defy his will. Choking back my sobs, I opened my eyes and looked. The Outsider's hand remained against my face, keeping my gaze fixed there. Grounding me. Holding me steady. And I looked.

There, before me, was arrayed the ocean. Frozen in place, each wave, each drop of spray. I saw myself, thirteen years old, holding myself with my arms wrapped tight against my shoulders, screaming into the wind and the waves. Crying for my mother. To stop. To look at me. The surf was around my feet, up to my ankles. I remembered how cold it felt in the night, like ice. Like my mother's touch. And my mother, wearing only her nightgown, walking into the water. The Outsider was there as well, frozen into place. He stood just at my mother's side, a foot away, his legs in the water but the water did not actually touch him. Watching. Arms folded across his chest.

Not touching her. Not leading her out into the darkness.

I remembered. I couldn't help but remember. She'd walked into the water and he'd just watched her. Just watched. She stood there, looking out into the ocean, up at the moon and the stars. I screamed until I thought my voice would give out but she did not heed my cries. She just sank to her knees and vanished under the water and for a moment I saw her hair, floating there like a shroud on the water's surface, and then that vanished too as she dove down to the bottom and breathed in water and died alone.

She'd killed herself. Not the Outsider. She'd done it.

And then, when it was finished and the ocean had claimed her, the Outsider turned and looked at me.

Something broke inside me and I collapsed to my hands and knees. My body shook with sobs but the tears seemed to have dried up. I'd known all along, but I hadn't wanted to admit it. I didn't want to remember my childhood. There were monsters there, shadows and beasts, and they'd worn familiar skin.

"She was going to do such interesting things," the Outsider murmured. "I gave her my mark and instead of using it, she killed herself. I was... disappointed... until I saw what it'd done to you."

I rose to my kneels, half-sprawled on the frozen sand, my arms wrapped about my stomach. I rocked back and forth.

"It _defined _you," he continued. "And you've spent a lifetime running, trying to block it away in your mind, trying to pretend that these things never happened or that they were different from what they were – while all this time you've been using these things your mother gave you."

"No," I gasped, wild with fear. "No, I'm not like her. I'm not!"

"I wasn't referring to her power," he said demurely and he sounded almost amused. "I speak of the things you do. The way you lie and keep secrets and bring those around you to ruin. Isn't that what she did? She'd bid people to do this, and they would. She wielded her words like weapons."

He paused, his dark eyes searching my face, as if trying to roll back the flesh and see what lay within the soul. Perhaps he could see. already Perhaps he simply found it fascinating.

"I could give you my mark," he said.

"No!" I cried. "I'm not going to be her!"

I pushed myself to my feet, backing away from him. He watched with those fathomless dark eyes, just as he'd watched my mother while she drowned. I kept backing away, my hands trembling, wrapped into fists.

"You won't turn me into that," I hissed. "I've seen what your gifts bring!"

"Death? Fire and ash?" He was advancing on me, hands clasped behind his back. "Isn't that what you do, on your own – spy?"

"No," I moaned, covering my face with my hands. "I want nothing of this."

"I know the songs she'd sing to you. She really was going to give you her power, just as Daud shared his with his assassins. You were to be her legacy and the world would _bow_ at your feet."

He only set the pieces into place and let them fall as he would. Was this his plan? That my mother would use her own child to affect his ends? And what she'd done to me, the things I'd seen and the way I'd feared that I would do the exact same someday, and possibly worse. I hated her, but I remained, even on the nights I lay in my bed, too scared to sleep, and thought that I should do as my brother had done. Run. Not come back. The streets would be better than this. But I stayed, because she was my mother and we were all that was left.

Then she killed herself and left me alone, when I had refused to do such a thing to her.

Perhaps there was more to it. Perhaps she knew what she was doing, perhaps there was some small spark inside her that was still my mother, that hadn't been consumed by the Outsider's mark. Was that why she killed herself – to spare me from becoming what she'd become? Was that her last resort to protect me from herself? I needed to believe she'd saved me. I had to believe it. Bereft of my childhood illusions, I needed something else to cling to.

"I am not her legacy!" I cried. "She's dead and beyond even your reach and you can't have me!"

I turned and ran. And when I reached the edge of land, where the sand broke up and nothing but empty air remained, I hesitated only a moment. I turned and looked back, to where the Outsider was still walking towards me. I met his eyes, turned to face him, and took a step backwards and fell.

And I woke.

* * *

The servant was trying to comfort me. I'd woken hysterical and I took deep breaths, composing myself. The dream was fresh in my mind and this time, when I looked back on those memories, I saw them differently. I saw that my mother was crying, that she was watching the moon, and that she knelt into the water and that her arms were spread, as if welcoming the darkness that lay within. And the Outsider only watched. Intensely curious. Trying to decipher why we did the things we did.

"I'm okay," I told the servant. "I'm okay. Let me wash my face and then I need to see the Lord Protector."

She did not question me. I was taken to him and he received me in his office. Emily was not present this time. It was late afternoon and the light was pale where it came through the windows.

"I have a question about the Outsider," I said, seating myself opposite from him at his desk.

"I'm no expert," he said calmly. "I only know what I've learned from experience."

"I think that counts as expertise, considering what we're dealing with here. The marks. How do you get them?"

Corvo regarded me solidly.

"He gives them to people he thinks are interesting," he said. "At least, that's what I've gathered from his comments. He only appears to people he thinks are interesting and when they're no longer interesting, he leaves them alone, but his mark remains. At least, I don't think I'm interesting right now... I'm not certain, but he's not spoken to me in some time."

He studied the back of his hand a moment, at the glove that once again covered his mark.

"Can I see?" I whispered. "Just... please."

Corvo guessed my meaning well enough. He stood from his desk and then stepped forwards, bringing up his hand as he did, and then he was gone and to the other side of the room in the time it took me to blink. He did this once more to return to his desk and he sat down as my heart hammered in my chest. I'd seen him do this before, I realized. When he was chasing me through the city, when I thought I was undone and marked to die. At the time, I'd thought my mind rattled by the fall. I hadn't seen wrong. He'd blinked down to the level I'd fallen to.

"It destroys a person, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Perhaps. I'm still whole, I believe. Power is dangerous, as you well know. Perhaps the Outsider's mark isn't in of itself dangerous, but it instead provides the recipient the means to act on things they normally never would. He gives us the rope. We hang ourselves."

I shivered at the analogy. Considering the circumstances, it was poorly chosen.

"And what of Daud?" I asked. "Is that why he murdered Jessamine?"

Corvo closed his eyes.

"I believe so," he replied softly. "Too many dead. Just one more – no different than the rest, right? She was, though. And he realized that, after it was too late."

"Terrence said that Daud had begun to change there, near the end of it all."

I thought of how he had saved me in the streets, when I was cornered. He'd killed my attackers but he'd done so to save me and there was still something in him that I hadn't expected to see in the Knife of Dunwall. Restraint. I recalled how he had held my wrist, trapped in his hand, when he found me in his room looking through his things. How something in him had softened at my confession that yes, I'd seen the Outsider's runes before. How he'd seen my fear and not used it to hurt me further. He'd just told me to get up, not ungentle, and that was all that was ever said of it.

"He seemed different than I expected," I whispered.

"He asked me for his life, there at the end," Corvo said. "I was tired of the bloodshed. I wanted a better legacy than that and I think Daud had come to the same conclusion. It was too late for him, however, so he chose exile."

Not entirely. He was still trying to redeem himself, I thought. He'd saved me and then sent me here, to protect the Empress where he'd failed to do so. Corvo was trying to make a point here. Maybe I was marked by the Outsider, not physically like he was, but by something else. By the memories I held and by the blood that ran inside my veins. By my history. But even the Outsider had said this – it was our choice to make. Ours, in the end.

"The Outsider doesn't act directly, Karissa," Corvo continued. "He pushes and nudges. That's all he ever did with me and Daud. He just sets things up and then watches them fall as they will. You've been set up. How you fall and land is up to you."

I needed for that to be true.

"Can you refuse the mark?" I asked.

"You dreamed of the Outsider." It was not a question. I looked down at my hands.

"He said my mother was going to share her power with me, before she killed herself," I said. I saw Corvo sit up straighter at my words. This was the real story. It wasn't the Outsider. "I thought he was going to give me his mark, to carry out the work she ended, and I ran."

"If the Outsider had wanted you to have his mark, you would have it," he sighed. "There is no choice involved."

Something cleared up in my head. Of course. He hadn't been offering me anything. It was already done. And he'd been handing me the pieces, bit by bit, waiting to see what I'd do with them.

"You were right," I whispered. "This isn't all a coincidence. These things were set in motion long ago and I - I know who tried to kill Emily."

* * *

_Author's note: I'm interested to know if anyone else knows who tried to kill Emily. And the bit about Karissa's mother? That's been in my head since page one and I giggled every time I wrote something to reinforce the notion that it was the Outsider that killed her._


End file.
